


Think of Anything

by Little_oblivion



Series: Think of Anything [1]
Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: Activist Christen, Alternate Universe - Journalism, F/F, Frank discussion of sex work, PREATH - Freeform, Photographer Tobin, SOFT GAYS, Sex Worker AU, Slow Burn, So be warned, including porn prostitution and exotic dancing, like a LOT of discussion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-01-23 03:48:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 45,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21313690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_oblivion/pseuds/Little_oblivion
Summary: When Tobin Heath contacted Christen Press to be the subject of her next photojournalism project, she never could have known how it would change both of their lives.AKA Sex Worker CP meet journalist TH
Relationships: Tobin Heath/Christen Press
Series: Think of Anything [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1631725
Comments: 371
Kudos: 1043





	1. Touching Down

**Author's Note:**

> Alright babes!  
I recently bought a book called 'All in a Day's Sex Work' by Blair Hopkins, and I seriously can't recommend it enough. It has been an absolutely fascinating read, and it helped inspire this fic.
> 
> Now, this fic is about a sex workers rights activist, so there's going to be lots of discussion about the sex work industry. If this isn't for you, no worries. Go read my bakery fic instead lol.
> 
> Also, the title comes from the song 'Think of Anything' by Jojee, who I actually know in real life. She's an amazing artist, I highly recommend taking a listen to her stuff on spotify. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We are beginning our descent into Portland International Airport. It is currently 26 degrees with a slight wind out of the the North. We ask that you go ahead and store all of your laptops and other portable electronic devices as we head in, and we once again thank you for flying United Airlines.”

Tobin closed her laptop and stowed it in the bag under the seat in front of her. She lifted the window cover and peered out. The city lights shimmered below, the blanket of white snow covering the city barely visible. She once again thanked her lucky stars that Portland’s latest snowstorm had hit two days ago, instead of today. Her editors were already antsy about her new project; the last thing she needed was for them to take bad weather as a sign from God to pull the plug.

The wheels of the airplane touched down, and she quickly closed her eyes, sending up a quick prayer of thanks that she made it safely. She pulled out her phone and turned it on, texting her family in New Jersey to let them know that she had arrived in Portland. It was eight on the West Coast, but her stomach gave a loud grumble, reminding her that she was still on East Coast time and had missed dinner while she was in the air.

She pulled her camera case from the overhead compartment, clutching it protectively as she followed everyone else off the plane. She wasn’t one to spend a lot of money on clothes or shoes- if something happened to her checked bag, it would be a pain to replace her stuff, but it was nothing that couldn’t be picked up in a thrift store. Her camera on the other hand was top of the line. It was her livelihood, the only thing that made her feel like she knew what she was doing most of the time. If something happened to her camera or one of her lenses, she’d be fucked.

Thankfully, her checked bag had made it just fine, and she dragged the battered suitcase to the curb as she called an Uber on her phone. As she waited, she got a text from her mom

**‘So glad you made it okay!!! Let us know when you reach your AirBnb. If it isn’t safe let me know! We can spare some money to get you a hotel room!!!’**

She rolled her eyes good naturedly at her mom’s concern. Her editors hadn’t been the only ones who thought she was insane. Her parents had made sure to assure her that it wasn’t the subject matter they had a problem with; they were all for female autonomy and empowerment, whatever that meant to each individual woman. But as the youngest daughter out of four kids, her mom didn’t like it when she wasn’t within arm’s reach. To her parents’ credit, they hadn’t been wrong to suggest that she could do her research on the East Coast; after all, New York was just across the river. But when Tobin had been doing her preliminary research, she had been drawn to this performer in particular. The passion with which she defended her industry was unmatched, and she was able to speak with such candor and intelligence that Tobin knew she would be the perfect person to partner with. And if that meant uprooting her life for a few months to go to Portland, then that’s what she had to do.

The car pulled up and the driver helped Tobin load her stuff. Once he pulled away, he lapsed into a gruff silence which Tobin was appreciative of. It’s not that she didn’t like talking to people (what sort of photojournalist would she be if so?) but she wanted to concentrate on the landscape of the city flashing past the car windows. She pulled her camera from its bag and began to snap a few shots.

Before she knew it, he was pulling up in front of a single-story brick house. She shouldered her camera bag and her backpack, climbing from the backseat and taking her suitcase from him. She couldn’t help but shiver a little bit as she walked up the driveway to the front door. She wondered how much she would regret not bringing a heavy winter coat with her to Portland.

She knocked on the door and after several long moments it was pulled open. A tall guy with long greasy hair stared back at her without saying anything.

“Hey, uh… Josh?”

He didn’t say anything, instead just eyeing her up and down, then shut the door. She stared at it in shock. Had she been given the wrong address? Did this AirBnB not really exist?

Then the door opened again, revealing a different guy. He was much shorter, with his hair shaved short and posessing a super energetic manner. “Tobi?”

“Tobin,” she quickly corrected. “Are you Josh?”

“Yeah, come on in, sorry.” He stepped back and she finally crossed the threshold into the house.

It took a moment for her eyes to adjust but when they finally did, she glanced around. It seemed to be your typical house, if on the bachelor pad side. To her right, she could see what was probably intended to be a dining room, but instead it housed several weight machines. Josh caught her eyeing them.

“You work out?”

“Uh… yeah. I run and stuff, and I hit the gym.”

“Sweet dude. Well if you ever wanna pump some iron just lemme know.” He gestured to her other side. “The living room.” A flat screen TV resided on a beat-up console table, a PlayStation set up between it and a cracked leather couch. As Josh led her past, Tobin spotted a mattress on the floor behind the couch, but didn’t ask any questions about it. Next was a small kitchen.

Now, Tobin was by no means the cleanest person in the world. Her past roommates would attest that she was on the other end of the spectrum; she wasn’t one to be bothered by dishes in the sink or clothing on the floor. But this kitchen, with the piles of unwashed dishes overtaking the sink and surrounding counters, the cooked-on food visible on the stovetop, the overflowing trashcan that she could smell from the doorway… it was disgusting.

She tried to keep her face neutral, instead following Josh further into the house. He pushed open a door and turned back to her. “This is going to be your room.”

She peered inside. A mattress on the floor, no sheets. A dresser on the opposite wall, a card table that held several old boardgames. Not exactly the coziest of lodgings.

“Oh, this looks… I think the pictures were of a different room?” she finally ground out, trying to be diplomatic.

“Yeah, that room is down the hall,” he pointed to a closed door, “but it’s not quite ready. The heater went out, it’ll take me a few days to get it fixed. So you’ll be here until I do.” He gave her a wide smile. “That okay?”

“Sure, sure.” _Absolutely not. _“Is there, um… bedding?”

“Oh yeah!” He stepped down the hallway, fishing around in a cabinet before handing her a stack of linens. “Also there’s the washing machine in case you need it. Dryer’s busted, though. And bathroom is on the other side.”

“Sweet. Okay. Thanks,” she said, feeling more and more overwhelmed.

“My bedroom is there at the end. We’re about to play FIFA, you want in?”

“Nah man, thanks but I’m probably just gonna settle in.”

“Cool. Yell if you need anything.”

Tobin pulled her suitcase into the room and shut the door. She looked around the dingy little room and sighed. She’d slummed it several times over the years, especially while she was in and just out of college, but this was a whole other level.

She began to sort through the bedding Josh had handed her, rolling her eyes when she realized she had two flat sheets and a quilt. She spread them out the best she could over the bare mattress, then pulled her toiletries bag out of her suitcase. She eased the door open and made her way to the bathroom.

The first thing she noticed when she had the door locked behind her was someone’s used bandaid in the sink. The second was the disgusting state of the toilet. She brought a hand to her face, forcing herself to take several deep breaths.

_You’re fine. You can live here for a few months while you’re working. You should have been expecting something like this when the price was so cheap. And anyways, you’ve already paid, so suck it up._

She went about brushing her teeth, all thoughts of hunger long gone. She washed her face, her bag held between her knees to avoid anything touching the bathroom counter. She forced herself to suck it up and use the gross toilet, peeking behind the shower curtain as she did.

_I don’t see how anyone could possibly use this shower and come out clean. _She resolved to switch her Planet Fitness subscription to a gym in the area first thing in the morning, if only to give her a place to shower and get ready while she was staying here.

She went back to her room, peering around once more. The joy and excitement she had felt about this project was quickly ebbing away, replaced by a distinct feeling of nerves and homesickness. It’s not even that she missed Jersey: she just missed being in a place that felt safe and clean.

She changed into her pajamas then walked over to inspect the door. There was no lock on the handle, which she wasn’t exactly a fan of. She dragged her fifty-pound bag over in front of it, figuring that if nothing else she would wake up if someone tried to force the door open. She switched on a small table lamp that was on top of the dresser and climbed onto the mattress. She pulled her laptop from her bag, forcing herself to abandon horror movie-ish thoughts of bed bugs and disease, and instead turn to her work.

Tomorrow would be her first time meeting her subject in person. She knew so much about her of course- she’d spent hours on the woman’s website, reading interviews she’d done, and then exchanging emails when she’d worked up the nerve to approach her with this project. She was so excited to interview her and follow her over the next few months. Tobin had gotten into photojournalism because she thought it was the best way to change people’s viewpoints on the world, thus changing the world itself, and this project felt as if it had that potential.

She pulled up her email, letting her editors know that she had arrived safely, then opened her last email from her subject, double checking the location and time for their meeting the following day.

** _‘Hey Tobin!_ **

** _Can’t believe it’s almost here, especially after spending so many weeks talking about it! Just confirming that we’re meeting on Tuesday at Case Study Coffee (ha- fitting) at 11:00 am. Wishing you good flight karma for tomorrow!_ **

** _Christen_ **

And underneath was her official email sign off, the one that revealed the name the world knew her as, as well as her self-described job titles.

** _Annie Autumn_ **

** _Adult Film Performer | Escort | Sex Workers Rights Activist_ **


	2. Face to Face

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two!!!! Tobin gets to meet CP, and we learn a little bit about both of their histories...
> 
> Thank you for all of the kind comments!

She hadn’t intended to wake up so early but something- still being on East coast time, probably- had dragged her to consciousness at seven. She’d wanted to go back to sleep, but as soon as she had remembered where she was, she’d been unable to. Instead she had pulled herself from her bed and changed into work out clothes.

There was a Planet Fitness just a short distance away by the Portland Public Transit, and they were able to quickly switch her membership for her. Once her backpack and camera bag were securely locked in one of the lockers, she made her way to one of the treadmills.

The run cleared her mind, letting her focus on the day ahead. Once she was done, she had showered and changed into the clothes she had stashed in her backpack.

She still managed to get to the coffee shop Christen had suggested nearly thirty minutes early. She went ahead and ordered a latte and started setting her things up on one of the more spacious tables. She made quick work of the emails that had filtered in overnight, replying to another message from her editors about their reservations about this project. _When will they learn to trust you when you bring them a project? _She had faced pushback about several of her other projects as well, but none as much as this.

"Tobin?" She glanced up, caught of guard, and was met with pale green eyes and a small smile.

_Woah._

"Christen?"

"That's me."

Tobin stood up and offered her a hand. "It's so nice to finally meet you!"

"Likewise. You already got something to drink?"

Tobin glanced down at the cup on the table, now just containing the room temperature dregs of her latte. "I did. Sorry, I would have waited for you but I ended up here super early. I can definitely go for another, though. Can I get you a coffee?"

Christen smiled, adjusting the strap of her bag on her shoulder. "Uh... sure. I'll take a latte with oat milk."

"Sweet. Anything to eat? Are you hungry?"

She shook her head, dropping her bag into one of the empty chairs and began to shrug out of her coat, revealing a light blue sweatshirt and leggings underneath. "I'm good, thanks. I ate before yoga."

"Okay." Tobin made her way back to the counter for their coffees, grabbing a blueberry lemon muffin for herself. She juggled the two cups and the plate, proud that she only spilt a few drops in the process. "Here we go."

She settled back into her seat, putting away her laptop in favor of a yellow legal pad. "So official," Christen mused from across the table. "I feel like I'm giving a police statement."

Tobin chuckled under her breath. "I don't think I'd make much of a detective."

"That's not true. You're quite the investigator." She glanced up questioningly. "You're not the only one who did research leading up to this. I don't let just anyone follow me around for months on end," Christen teased. "I found quite a bit of your work. I especially loved your mini series on the Stonewall inn anniversary. It was really poignant."

Tobin scratched at the back of her neck. Of course she should have realized that Christen would google her, if only to make sure she wasn't an axe murderer, but she hadn't expected her to actually examine and read her work. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." She gave a wide smile, lifting an eyebrow. "Shall we get started?"

"Of course!" Tobin pulled out her phone, opening the voice memos app on her phone. "I'm going to record any of our quote-unquote interview sessions, just to make sure I don't miss any details. The legal pad is to let me jot down ideas and, I don't know, stream of consciousness stuff as we talk. It helps me keep us on track, and helps me when I'm trying to write the piece later on."

Christen took a sip of her latte. "Whatever you need to do."

"We'll start with little things, the basics. Stuff I already know, probably, but it's nice to hear it straight from you. So. Name?"

"Christen Annemarie Press, but most people know me as Annie Autumn."

Tobin hummed. "Did you pick that name?"

"No, my parents did, when I was born," Christen teased, earning a grin. "Yes. I pulled Annie from my middle name. Autumn came from... an appreciation of alliteration, I guess. And I was in California at the time, sick of the heat, wishing that I was somewhere that experienced the four seasons, where the leaves changed and stuff. Yeah."

"Are you from California originally?"

"Mmhm. Born in LA, raised in the suburbs. Went to college there, too."

"Oh, I didn't realize you went to college," Tobin said, not looking up from the pad.

"Why, because all sex workers are idiots?"

Tobin hurriedly set her pen down. "No! That's not... I just didn't see anything on your website or in any of your other interviews."

Christen just smiled. "I'm teasing. Kind of. Yeah, I went to Stanford."

She gave a low whistle. "Stanford? Damn, okay." She smiled. "So what did you major in?"

"I did two years as a Public Policy major, with plans to go to law school after I graduated. But then my junior year I switched to Psychology with a minor in Feminist, Gender, and Sexuality Studies, which my parents were... thrilled about." She rolled her eyes. "And then I dropped out, which was really the icing on the cake."

"Wow... what made you start out as pre-law?"

"My dad is a lawyer," she answered simply. "That's it. I'm smart and opinionated and not afraid to argue, so it seemed like a good enough fit."

"But it wasn't?"

"Nope. I just... I was tired of hearing rich, privileged white dudes drone on about... I don't know. How enlightened the founding fathers were. I was like, they had _literal slaves_, maybe we should take everything they say with a grain of salt, y'know?"

Tobin snorted. "I can only imagine. So you made the switch..."

"And I liked it! It was never that I didn't like school. I loved it. I was good at it. But... after awhile it felt like I was drowning. Not necessarily under the intense course load like my peers, but under the expectations."

"Expectations?"

"Of my parents, my professors, society as a whole. It was like I had spent my whole life living as someone that I wasn't, and once I started reading all of these works about the psyche and the human condition, I needed something more. Something else." She took a sip of coffee and Tobin waited patiently, sensing she wasn't through speaking. "I guess you could say that's how all of this began. I ended up at a strip club in LA for a project, talking to the girls, assuming that they would be these... broken, downtrodden victims, and instead they were a tribe of badass women who were working of their own volition, taking ownership of their bodies, and making fucking bank while they were at it." She shrugged. "I ended up coming back to watch a few more times, and suddenly I had a job there."

"And you were..."

"I had just turned twenty one."

"Did you like stripping?"

Christen tilted her head to the side. "Y'know, I did. I like dancing, I actually grew up dancing, not the same way, but it was nice to be active and moving my body again. And the friendships I developed with the other girls were unworldly. To this day, my best friends are the ones I've made at work."

"How long did you dance?"

"Six years."

"And what came next?"

"Being an escort. Well, I started while I was dancing, there was a bit of overlap."

Tobin nodded, quickly flipping the page of her legal pad. "And how did that start?"

"Fairly typical. A girl that I worked with in the club also did some private parties, bachelor parties and the like. I had done a few with her and she told me that if I wanted, a few of the guys had expressed interest in a more... intimate agreement."

"Is that how she put it?"

"No, she told me one of the guys from our last gig wanted to stick it in my ass." Tobin, who had been swallowing a bite of her muffin, began to choke. Christen got up and grabbed her a glass of water from the counter. "Sorry," she offered with a grin.

"No, no," Tobin took a drink, wiping at her watering eyes. "I mean, I asked."

"My gut reaction was absolutely not. But then I made myself really examine my reasons and my prejudices and, if I'm being honest, my bank account, and then I told her yes."

"And you're still working as an escort?"

She nodded. "Some. I've been working as an adult film performer for about two years, and it's far more lucrative."

"Do you like it?"

"Weirdly, yes. It's less about making connections. I mean, when you're giving a lap dance, or providing someone with a GFE, it's all about the person who's paying for that service, about giving them what they need, which I do like. But when you're on a film set... I guess it feels more human. You're with your costars and the makeup artists and the director, and yeah we're about to get into some crazy positions and make some crazy noise, but you're also like... asking David about his boyfriend. You're exchanging restaurant recommendations. And then the director calls rolling and I'm in character, doing my job. But as soon as he calls cut I'm back to being Christen."

"I can see that. What's... Well." Tobin cut off, chewing on her bottom lip.

"What?"

"Well I was going to ask what kind of porn is your favorite to do, but I feel like that might be crossing a line of some sort."

Christen just laughed. "Trust me, you're nowhere even close to the line. I'm lucky to work with some incredibly badass companies here in Portland, ones that tend to produce work that's both ethical and feminist."

"Uh, explain those terms? I don't know that I hear many people talking about feminist porn."

Christen nodded. "I know, it sounds like a complete contradiction. But put super simply, feminist porn emphasizes equal treatment and equal pay of it's performers. Ethical porn is about the perfomer's rights and well being. Basically, vids where everyone consents, gets off, has a great time, and I'm not taking a cum shot to the face."

Tobin looked at her in stunned amusement, and Christen once again burst out laughing. At that moment, the clouds outside shifted and a ray of sun came through the window, highlighting the angles of Christen's cheekbones.

"Hold right there." She fished her camera out and began snapping photos of the woman sitting across from her. After several moments, she lowered the camera and kept her gaze fixed on Christen. "Wow."

"Hm?"

"Nothing! It's just... I've spent a lot of time looking at pictures and watching videos of you over the past couple of weeks. I guess I just thought I would be better equipped to handle how shockingly beautiful you are."

Christen's cheeks pinked slightly, but she held Tobin's gaze. "I bet you say that to all of the people you write stories on."

"Mm not so much." Tobin played with the camera in her lap for a moment. "The last piece I completed was about teenage girls in the New York State justice system. And there... wasn't a lot of beauty in what I saw and heard."

"I can imagine," Christen murmured.

"So many of them are in there for doing... god, just dumb shit. Stupid shit they shouldn't have been doing, yeah, but now their lives have been irrevocably changed by being incarcerated. So much of it is drug related, but New York is right on the cusp of legalizing marajuana, and what does that mean for them? They lost years of their lives, but now the hipsters in Brooklyn get to sell it out of their coffee shops."

"It's grossly unfair."

"That's how I kind of happened upon this project. I met a girl in there and... again, a dumb kid. She was sixteen and hopelessly in love with an older boyfriend. He ended up turning her out and she got busted for solicitation. She unknowingly was in a school zone, and when you add that to some previous trouble and resisting arrest, she landed a year and a half sentence in Albion Correctional Facility."

Christen shook her head."I hear you. Prostitution is a Class A misdemeanor in Oregon, meaning whether you're the escort or the client you can be subject to 364 days in jail, $6200 in fines, or 160 hours of community service. And it's just... why can I spend nearly a year in jail for helping someone with a disability or impairment fulfill a perfectly healthy need in their life, meanwhile these multi millionaires who are abusing their employees get away with a slap to the wrist? How is that fair?"

"Exactly."

"So much of the pushback about sex work is all about the yuck factor. People have been taught to be ashamed and afraid of sexuality, so when people try to be up front about it, they hate it. And they kick and scream and threaten until we're forced to go back under ground. But sex workers are just human. We're just trying to pay rent and eat good food and snuggle our dogs. We're not dirty. We're just human."

She took another sip of her coffee and Tobin watched in something close to awe.

'Just human' is not the phrase she would ever use to describe Christen Press.


	3. Come Inside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3! A little bit closer look at how Christen lives.

Tobin knocked on the front door, stepping back to look up at the two story townhouse. She was in a cute neighborhood, full of picturesque homes with what she could only assume would be pristinely manicured lawns if they weren't buried underneath snow. A few doors down she saw an SUV idling in a driveway, a mom coming out of the house with two kids in tow as they rushed to get to work and school.

The front door swung open, revealing a wide awake Christen. "Oh good! So you found it okay?"

Tobin didn't speak, instead just lifting up her camera and snapping a few pictures before finally asking, "How do you possibly have so much energy at 7:45 in the morning?"

"Ooh, is someone not a morning person?" Christen giggled, and Tobin took a few more pictures.

"Not quite," Tobin grinned. Christen pulled her phone out of her leggings' pocket and took a few pictures of Tobin shivering on her doorstep, beanie pulled down over her forehead. "Are you going to let me in?"

"Alright, alright," Christen stepped back, finally letting Tobin dart forward into the warmth of her home.

She took everything in as she toed off her boots. It was beautifully decorated. White sheer curtains hung from the windows, ensuring that everything was bathed in the morning light. There was a fireplace in the corner, giving off a pleasant warmth, with a television on the mantle playing the news at a low volume. She followed Christen through the living room, taking in the dark navy blue sofa with it's mustard yellow throw pillows.

"Want a cup of coffee?"

"Yes please." Tobin's living situation had yet to turn around. Josh assured her that the heater would be fixed within the next few days, so she was still stuck on the mattress. The kitchen had somehow gotten even grosser. Tobin had purchased groceries the first couple of days she was there, determined to make the best of a bad situation, but had then realized that Josh's paltry assortment of mismatched utensils and pans weren't conducive to cooking anything. And on top of anything else, the coffee maker was broken. Tobin had walked to a nearby McDonalds this morning before calling her Lyft, but the burnt coffee had left a lot to be desired.

"Creamer? Sugar?"

"A splash of milk, if you have it."

Christen pulled a carton from the fridge. "Soy milk okay?"

"Perfect," Tobin smiled.

She busied herself with mixing up her coffee just how she wanted it, then took a sip, not even close to caring when it nearly burned her tongue.

"Good?" She hadn't realized her eyes had drifted shut until she was opening them to look at Christen, who was smirking at her with one eyebrow raised.

"I didn't realize how much I needed a great cup of coffee until it was in my hand," she laughed, somewhat embarrassed. 

"You're in Portland, great coffee is available on every street corner."

"Well, the only coffee near by AirBnB is McDonalds, so..."

Christen wrinkled her nose. "Gross. Here, let's sit for a second in the living room before we take the grand tour. That way you can warm up and savor every bit of your coffee."

Tobin wanted to tease back, but another sip quieted anything she could have come up with. It was damn good coffee.

Christen snuggled into the corner of the couch, pulling a pillow into her lap, and Tobin perched on the edge not wanting to spill on anything. "You have a beautiful home," she said, glancing around again.

"Thanks," Christen said, a bright smile popping onto her face. "I really like it. I spent so many years living in apartments that were small and dark. When I had the opportunity to buy, I knew I wanted the complete opposite."

She gave a low whistle. "A home owner at the ripe old age of 31. You're the millennial dream."

"I mean, say what you want to about sex work, it definitely has it's perks," Christen said with a wink.

"How long have you been here?"

"A little over a year."

"How's the neighborhood?"

"It's great! Quiet. A lot of families, which I like."

"How well do you know each other?"

"You mean, do they know about what I do for a living?" Tobin's lips twisted into a grin and she nodded. "They don't. When someone asks what I do, I tell them a freelance as a receptionist for corporations."

"So... basically the most boring thing you could think of," Tobin replied, earning a laugh.

"Exactly. It's quote-unquote respectable, whatever that means, it's boring so no one wants to ask questions about it, and there's no chance of someone requesting a service I can't provide."

"Meaning?"

"Well, I originally thought about telling people I was a yoga instructor, since yoga is something I love and can talk about for hours, but then one of my friends pointed out that it could lead to someone asking to come take a lesson from me. Same thing with saying I'm a nurse of some sort, I didn't want people asking me for medical opinions or wanting to bring their kids to the imaginary pediatrician I work for."

"Got it, got it. But, how do people think you afford to live here? Because listen, I did my time as a temp, and you definitely can't buy a house in that wage bracket."

Christen shrugged her shoulders. "No one's had the balls to come out and ask. I can only assume they think I have family money of some sort. A few have noticed that I never have family come and visit, and I've been purposefully vague, saying that I don't really have any family left. Which is... true, I guess. Truer than I want it to be." She fell silent for a moment, chewing on her lip. "But I think they've assumed that my parents have passed away and I inherited all of their money."

Tobin wanted to know more; why did Christen feel she didn't have any family left? But her journalism instincts had kicked in, warning her that this wasn't the moment to press for more details. "How about a tour?" she suggested, placing her nearly empty coffee cup on the coffee table.

Christen gave her a small smile. "Right this way."

She followed Christen through the townhouse, snapping photos as she went. Everything had the same light, peaceful vibe as the downstairs living area. One of Christen's three bedrooms doubled as a yoga studio, a mat rolled out next to the bed. Her master bedroom was big, with a desk set up in a windowed alcove. "This is where most of the magic happens," she said.

"You mean not over there?" Tobin asked cheekily, turning and snapping a few shots of her bed.

Christen gave her a playful shove. "Very funny. No, I think people are always surprised at how much of my life is mundane. I mean, when it boils down to it, I'm a freelance worker. Which as I'm sure you know-"

"-can be a monotonous nightmare," Tobin finished knowingly. "Hundreds of emails back and forth with clients, trying to iron out bookings and scheduling."

"Exactly. I spend way more time fussing with my Google calendar than I do on my back. But people don't want to think about that."

"You're a small business owner," Tobin agreed. "Whatever someone wants to think of the service you provide, it's a service, just as if you were a mechanic or a personal trainer."

"Or a photographer," Christen added with a nudge of her elbow.

"So fire up your computer, let's see what your schedule looks like."

"Okay." Christen dragged an armchair over from the corner of the room so Tobin could sit down, then took a seat and opened her laptop.

"I can't believe you have a Dell," Tobin said nonchalantly.

"What's wrong with Dell computers?"

"Nothing, except that Macbooks are superior in pretty much every capacity."

Christen snorted. "Alright, no need to be snooty about it. I'll have you know that my laptop does everything I need it to just fine."

"But Macbook's video and photo processing software-"

"If you think I edit any of my media personally you've lost your mind," she laughed. "I'm not an amateur, I have people who do that for me."

"Oh, who's being snooty now?"

She stuck out her tongue then turned to the computer. "Alright, let's see what I have coming up... Today is pretty chill. An office day, so to speak. Tomorrow is the same. The next day is going to be busy, but still pretty boring: check up at the dentist in the morning, followed by a salon appointment."

"What are you getting done?"

"Typical pre shoot service: full body waxing, pedicure, acrylics."

"Ah okay. So i'm assuming that this," she pointed to the following day's blocked out time, "is a shoot?"

Christen clicked her tongue. "Fast learner."

"I try."

"Yeah it is. My call time is seven thirty. We're expecting it to be a six hour shoot."

"Six hours?!" Tobin had certainly had her fair share of long nights in bed with a partner, making love for hours, but definitely not six.

Christen nodded. "Probably an hour and a half for hair and makeup. Then we'll go into still photos, which could be up to two hours. Then we'll move into actually putting stuff on video."

"How..."

"Hm?"

"Do... guys stay hard that long?" Christen raised her eyebrows and Tobin's cheeks flushed pink. "Sorry, I don't... I'm a gold star lesbian," she offered sheepishly. "I have no idea what to even do with a penis at this point."

Christen gave her a big, nose wrinkling grin. "Don't apologize! You're fine. To answer your question, not really. They have to do lots of stroking off camera to try and keep it up and going. I actually feel really bad for them sometimes. Because if it's been a long day or just an off experience and they can't get it back up, everyone has to wait for them, and it must be so awkward to know that everyone in the room is just waiting on your dick to cooperate."

"That sounds like a nightmare," Tobin agreed.

"You're welcome to come to set with me, if you'd like."

She lifted an eyebrow. "Really?"

Christen shrugged. "Sure. Not this shoot probably. I'll need to reach out to everyone and make sure they're comfortable with having another person on set, and I don't know if I can get everyone's consent in time. But the next one for sure."

"I never really considered that someone filming porn would be uncomfortable with another person in the room. I guess I felt like once you're naked in front of a room with ten people in it, an eleventh is pretty much no sweat," she joked.

"It's all about the context," Christen replied. "Like, when we're on a shoot, I'm not concerned with all the people watching, because they're doing a job. Frank's not really checking me out, he's making sure that he got the lighting right because he doesn't want to get fired. But Frank's brother Phil, who works in construction and isn't on a set everyday, yeah he's going to probably be gross and leering at everyone."

Tobin nodded. "Got it. Yeah, just let me know."

"As for the weeks after that... A few projects that haven't been finalized. I'm speaking at a forum type thing next Tuesday. It's at a queer bookstore here in Portland, it should be a pretty good night! You might even get to see me get yelled at by a few militant feminists," she said in a sarcastically showy voice.

"Does that happen often?"

She sighed, shaking her head slightly. "Every now and then. I think we're all wanting the same thing, which is the obvious: equality and safety for all. We just have different ideas on how to get it."

"How do your ideas differ?"

She minimized the calendar, standing up from her desk chair. "Come to the forum. I'll let you hear their side of the story first hand. As for now, let's continue the tour."

"Wait, you mean we're not through? There's more?"

"Of course! You haven't even seen the best part." She let peek into her master bathroom and master closet, then led the way back downstairs.

"Okay, what are your feelings on dogs?"

"Dogs? I love them!"

Christen's grin stretched even wider. "I am so glad to hear that." She opened the backdoor and two large dogs came streaking in, immediately jumping up on Tobin even as Christen tried to pull them away.

"Hi puppies!" Tobin quickly stowed her camera up on the counter where it would be safe from wet noses and large paws, then quickly dropped to her knees, receiving several kisses from the dogs. 

"This is Khaleesi and Morena, the loves of my life and my fur babies, who are not being very well-behaved!" She added the last part in a stage whisper to the dogs who did nothing but wag their tails as they continued sniff and lick Tobin.

"No, they're such good girls, I can tell. Aren't you? Aren't you?" she cooed.

"I put them outside before you came over because I knew if I didn't they would never have let you take the tour in peace. C'mon girls, be good, let her stand up." She gently pulled on their collars, tugging them back enough to give Tobin some space.

"They're absolutely beautiful."

"Thank you. I found Morena at the local recycling center. It took a while to earn her trust, but once I got her home she blossomed. And Khaleesi has been a great big sister, haven't you sweet baby?" She leaned down and a pressed a kiss to the top of Khaleesi's head, then glanced up at Tobin, who had retrieved her camera from the counter and was catching her interaction with her dogs. "I love them more than anything."

"I can tell."

"Dogs are just... they're so loyal and loving. They give their everything to us, and ask for nothing in return but that we love them back. Is there anything purer than that?"

Tobin smiled. "There's really not."


	4. Oral Experience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tobin gets a call from prison, then attends Christen's forum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Sex Worker Wednesday, whattup lol

The ringing of Tobin's phone pulled her out of a fitful sleep and she had to feel around for several moments before grabbing it and answering. "Hello?" Her voice was low and hoarse with sleep.

"You are receiving a call from inmate 12G0990," the robotic voice cut off, to be replaced by a softer voice that Tobin knew well, "Mal Pugh." The robotic voice returned. "To accept this call and the resulting charges please press 1 at this time. If you no longer wish to be contacted by this inmate, please press-" Tobin jammed the correct button, sitting up and trying to shake the cobwebs away.

"Mal?"

"Tobin?" She would be lying if she wasn't a little relieved to hear the girl's voice. 

"Hey, how are you?"

"Oh god, I woke you up didn't I? I forgot about the time difference..."

"You're fine, I don't mind." She glanced at her watch. "It's 8:30 here, that's not too early. If anything I should be thanking you for the wake up call."

"The most expensive wake up call in existence."

She could hear the guilt in Mal's voice. "I don't mind. So how are things?"

"They're okay. It's cold here, we just got a snow storm."

"Yeah, I think it's supposed to hit the Northwest in a few days."

"My cell is freezing. Amy complains about it like, twenty four hours a day."

"Tell her to get off her ass and move around and she'll warm up," Tobin joked, and she was glad when it earned a quiet giggle from the sixteen year old.

"Yeah, I'll be sure to do that so she can kick my ass."

"I mean, it would probably warm her up?"

"I'd rather listen to her complain."

"How are things otherwise?"

"They're okay. I'm taking as many GED courses as they'll let me. I want to try and take the test before I come up for parole."

"That's amazing, Mal! How do the teachers say you're doing?"

"Good. I don't like the guy who does math. He's like, the most boring dude in existence." Tobin smiled and listened as Mal launched into a description of her classes and teachers. Hearing her talk about something so everyday as Algebra homework made it easy to forget that the very sweet, shy girl on the other end of the phone was currently six months into an eighteen month prison term. 

"How are the other girls doing?" she asked when Mal stopped to take a breath.

"They're good. Everyone's just doing their shit. Well, there was a fight the day before yesterday."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. I wasn't there, but apparently a girl who had just transferred in was making a move on Carli, and Hope saw. And you know how Hope gets."

"Oh I remember." Hope hadn't been one of Tobin's subjects since she had been focusing on the teenage inmates, but she had still witnessed the woman's explosive anger and possessiveness several times.

"When they went to pry Hope off she started swinging on the guards. She ended up in solitary."

"Oh shit. How is Carli doing?"

"She's mad and sad and honestly being a huge bitch."

"I can only imagine she feels guilty that Hope is back in solitary, she probably feels like it's her fault."

"She shouldn't. Hope would have found a reason to fight. She can't help it."

"Yeah. Still. Just... try to stay out of trouble, yeah? Keep your nose clean."

"Sure thing, _Mom,_" Mal teased.

Tobin grinned. "And make sure that you're eating all your vegetables, and drinking enough water, and saying please and thank you-"

There was a sudden disturbance on the other end, a muffled male voice saying something that Tobin couldn't quite understand, but she heard Mal respond, "I still have like twenty minutes-" before the voice cut her off, louder this time.

"I said now, Pugh!"

"Tobs I have to go, we're going into lockdown."

"Okay, call me when you have a chance, be-" But the phone call ended abruptly, the dial tone ringing loud in Tobin's ear. "Be careful," she finished with a sigh, bringing the phone down and hanging up. 

She cared for all of the girls she had met on her last assignment, but she felt like she had really connected with Mal. It was like she was the younger sister Tobin had never had, and she couldn't help but worry about her. She tried to stay in contact as much as possible, writing letters and accepting phone calls, even sending her packages of books when she had the spare money. She hoped that on some level it made a difference, but worried that it wasn't enough.

X

Tobin met up with Christen at the bookstore on Tuesday, interest piqued by the amount of people who had already filed inside. She followed her into the back room and hung her coat on the back of a chair at the very back.

"Not a bad turn out," she muttered to Christen. The other woman gave her a quick smile. 

"What can I say, I have the ability to hold a crowd's attention," she joked.

"So who all is going to be speaking?"

"Me, obviously. A woman named Becky Saurbrunn, she's a public defender here in the city, so she can speak on various legal aspects. Heather O' Reilly is a health counselor who specializes in both sexual assault and sex work. Megan Rapinoe is the head of one of the biggest feminist organizations in the Pacific Northeast. And then of course, we have Jaelene Hinkle, who works for a Christian based anti-trafficking group."

"Alright, alright... so this Megan woman, is she one of the militant feminists you mentioned last week?"

"You been talking shit on me to your new girlfriend, Pressy?" Tobin turned around to see a woman with hot pink hair staring coolly at both of them.

"Believe it or not, you don't consume my every waking thought, Pinoe," Christen quipped with a raised eyebrow.

"Well that's your first and foremost mistake!" She opened her arms and the two woman hugged as they both cracked up laughing. Tobin snapped a few pictures quickly, not wanting to ruin the moment.

"Tobin this is none other than Megan Rapinoe. And no, she's not who I was referring to. I mean, she might yell at me a little bit, but it's all in good fun. Meg is one of my very close friends. This is Tobin Heath, she's the photojournalist I'm working with."

"Nice to meet you," Tobin said, offering a hand.

"Likewise! How are you enjoying Portland so far?"

"It's nice! Very... unique."

She laughed. "Listen, I live in Seattle, you can be honest with me, it's fucking weird."

"It's not weird!" Christen argued.

"I mean, in a good way! But definitely weird."

"Chris! Meg!" The three of them turned to see a woman with long blonde hair gesturing them towards the slightly raised platform.

"Alright, I guess that means it's go time. Get some good pictures of us Tobin and remember, this is my good side." Megan tapped the left side of her face with a grin and Tobin couldn't help but laugh as she found her way to the back of the room.

"Alright, welcome everyone! My name is Katie Nolan, I'll be moderating today's discussion on the pros and cons of decriminalizing sex work..." The forum proved to be incredibly interesting; she listened as Christen expanded on some of the topics that she'd discussed previously, and also heard from other sides of the debate. Everyone in the crowd seemed intently focused on the discussions happening.

"By working to decriminalize the sex work industry, we give women the right to have more say over the safety conditions they're working under," Heather said into her handheld mic. "And obviously, sex work is not just done by women, but it's irresponsible not to recognize that most sex work is done by women for men. But under the current system, sex workers aren't receiving the proper screenings and care that they require. When there's a chance you could go to jail if someone finds out what you do to pay your bills, it reduces the likelihood that these women are going to visit their physicians, and when they do, most of the time they're not truthful."

"But aren't they protected by doctor-patient confidentiality?" Katie asked.

"Of course! But a lot of women don't know that. And even if they do, there's still fear and distrust."

"Plus, there's research that would suggest that it leads to better condom usage in general," Becky pointed out. "Right now if you're caught out on the street with condoms, or negotiating condom usage, that's grounds for arrest."

"Wait, like any condoms? Like if I see a teenage boy leaving a CVS with a package of Magnums I should perform a citizen's arrest?" Katie asked.

"Well yes, but only because he's probably about to give some poor high school girl the most lackluster sexual experience of her life," Megan joked, earning laughs from the crowd.

"Having condoms isn't illegal," Becky clarified. "But if you've been picked up under suspicion of soliciting, having condoms in your possession can be counted as evidence against you."

"I just think decrim could have dangerous affects," Jaelene argued. "I mean, if decrim is passed nationwide, what's to stop widespread trafficking of girls here under the guise of migrating for work?"

Becky looked down the line at her. "Well, the main thing missing from that argument is the tenet of consent. Because the key difference between trafficking and sex work is consent. By definition, trafficked women and children are not consenting."

Christen nodded. "I think consent is the most important key word when we are talking about sex work. Because it feels like people have a hard time reconciling the fact that sex workers are giving consent-"

"But they're not! They're consent is being purchased! How can we say women are being treated equally and fairly when their bodies are being bought? That goes against the very idea of bodily autonomy."

"Well first of all, no man owns my body." Christen turned to look at Jaelene. "No one owns this body except me, not a romantic partner, not my parents, not the United States, and certainly not my clients. I am my own." She waited as she received a small smattering of applause. "I provide a service. It's not a service all women want to provide, and no one should be required to provide any sort of sexual service or gratification if they don't want to. That would be forcing someone to do something against their will, without consent, and that makes it rape. And if you think I'm in any way condoning rape or sexual violence of any kind, then you've mistaken everything I stand for, because I think it's the most despicable thing one human being can do to another, and I hope I see the day come when the statistics fall. But criminalizing sex workers isn't the answer. Sending women to jail for their career choice isn't the answer to America's sexual violence problem. And it's irresponsible to say otherwise."

Jaelene raised her microphone to respond but Katie beat her to the punch. "Alright, and on that note we are unfortunately out of time. I want to once again thank our panel for coming today, this has been an incredible evening." Everyone began to clap, including Tobin, who was in awe of everything she had listened to. It was one thing to read Christen's interview's online; it was quite another to see her discuss it in person. She made her way to the side of the platform.

"Did you get lots of good pics?" Megan asked.

"When I could tear myself away from what you guys were saying, yeah," Tobin practically gushed. "That was great."

"We're all going out for a bite to eat, do you want to tag along?" Christen asked.

"Sure! That sounds great." She waited as everyone gathered their things and set off down the street to a nearby diner. "Wait we're missing someone... is Jaelene not coming?"

Megan gave her an exaggerated roll of her eyes. "Honkle? Not likely."

"Be nice," Heather chided gently.

"I was just nice for two hours, I don't want to be nice anymore." She looked back at Tobin. "She's a little bit of what you could call a hypocritical, bigoted, dick bag." 

"Really?"

Megan nodded. "She thinks I'm an abomination. If she had it her way, gays wouldn't have the right to marry."

Tobin rolled her eyes. "You've got to be kidding me. She's one of those?"

"Oh yeah. Preaching about the bible and God's word, as if she doesn't have tattoos, and last time I checked God was just as much anti-ink as he was anti-twink, so," Megan threw up her hands.

Tobin took a deep breath, trying to quiet the anger she could feel itching up her spine. "I can't stand people like that. People who try and use religion to hide their hate. They shouldn't get to justify being hateful with something that's supposed to bring people joy." She glanced up to see Christen giving her an intrigued look. "Sorry, I... I grew up really religious, but in a good way. So I hate people like that. It's about love, not hate."

Christen gave her a soft smile. "I get that."

"Well someone should let her know, because she hates my gay ass."

Christen rolled her eyes at Megan, giving a little laugh. "Well I'm queer and I'm a sex worker, so she's not exactly my biggest fan either."

Her sentence played through Tobin's mind several times before she found her tongue. "You're queer?" Christen nodded. "Oh. It just... I didn't see anything on your website that would suggest, I mean-"

"I'm just quiet about it," Christen said with a shrug. "I like who I like, and I don't see why it has to be such a big deal. I can't wait for the day when no one has to come out, and it's just a thing, like a food allergy."

"Well in the meantime, I'll just scream both from the rooftops." Megan turned towards the street and cupped her hands around her mouth. "MY NAME IS MEGAN RAPINOE AND I'M ALLERGIC TO WALNUTS AND DICK!" 

The group of women cracked up as they arrived at the diner, pushing open the door and stepping into the warmth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what are your thoughts on Mal? Thoughts on everyone's discussion points? Thoughts on the Christen's friends?  
(I'm sure I pretty much know everyone's thoughts on Hinkle, but feel free to leave those too lol)


	5. Dance for Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christen invites Tobin along to an opportunity and Tobin comes to an unsettling realization

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at meeeeeeeee two updates in a row!

Christen had texted Tobin an address in South Portland, not providing any other details. She’d ended up arriving much earlier than the time Christen specified, and she blamed that on not wanting to spend any extra time in her AirBnb. She killed some time walking along the river, snapping pictures of the cold water and the bright blue sky, but eventually the wind started biting at her exposed skin and she made her way back to the building.

She ducked inside, pushing her hair out of her eyes. She was surprised to find herself in what appeared to be a lobby of some sorts, the walls covered with photos of beautiful ballerinas decked out in tutus and crowns. She faltered, opening the text Christen had sent to make sure she hadn’t misread something.

“Ma’am, can I help you?” She looked up to see a girl her age looking at her expectantly from the reception desk.

“Uh, I’m not sure. I’m supposed to be meeting a friend, but I must have the address wrong.”

“What’s the address?” She turned her phone around to show her. “No, that’s us.” Her eyes flitted to the contact at the top of the screen. “Oh, you’re here to see Christen?”

“Yeah, yeah I am.”

“Just go down this hallway, she’s in the adult class, second studio on the right. You’ll see the parents’ area as you’re walking in. You can wait there until she’s done.”

“Thank you.” Tobin made her way down the hall, feeling very out of place as she skirted a crowd of tiny little girls in pink leotards and tights. She nodded self consciously at the teacher who was behind them, but the woman gave her a smile and walked right past. That was one of the best parts of being a photographer; with a camera around your neck, people accepted your presence without a second thought. It made it easy for Tobin to fade into the background. She walked through the door that had been indicated and took a seat on one of the benches.

Through the large window in front of her she could see a group of people being led through a ballet class. It was mostly women holding onto the barres, although she could see a few men interspersed throughout. At the front was a tall woman with a long neck, her blonde hair swept up into a bun. She finished whatever she was saying to the class and hit a button on a stereo, causing music to flow through the space. Tobin watched as she walked up and down the rows, correcting positions as she did. It wasn’t until she reached the back row and adjusted the hips of someone who’s long, dark, curly hair had been swept up into a bun that Tobin’s eyes found Christen.

The class turned at the barre so that she could take in her face, eyebrows drawn in intense concentration. She was wearing a black leotard and pink tights that let Tobin watch the way her muscles shifted and coiled as she moved through the combination. She shifted her weight to extend her foot to the side, then lifted it until it was parallel to the floor. _How had Tobin never realized how long Christen’s legs were?_

The music concluded and the teacher clapped her hands. The barres were moved to the sides of the room and the class spread out, everyone facing away from Tobin. The teacher put on different music then led everyone through a slow, presentational sort of bow.

Everyone began to clap, then went about gathering their water bottles. Tobin stood up and crossed to the doorway, intercepting Christen.

“Hey! You’re early!” Christen reached out a hand towards her then stopped with a laugh. “Sorry, I would give you a hug but I’m super sweaty.”

“No worries.”

“How long have you been here?”

“Like… I don’t know. Ten minutes. That was awesome to watch! I remember you mentioning that you danced as a kid but I didn’t realize you still did.”

Christen beckoned her to follow as she made her way down the hallway. “Yeah, I try to take barre and floor classes when I have the chance. It’s great cardio and it keeps me flexible and in shape for work.”

“I thought that’s what yoga was for?” Tobin grinned.

Christen shrugged with a smile. “Both, I guess.” She gestured to a door. “I need to change, but I’ll be just a few minutes, I promise.”

“Take your time.”

True to her word, before Tobin knew it Christen was reappearing in black leggings and a rust colored hoodie, a bag thrown over her shoulder. “Alright, are you hungry? I’m never hungrier than after a barre class.”

“I can always eat.”

Christen led her out of the ballet studio, waving goodbye to her classmates and the girl at the front desk. “There’s a burger place a few streets over; I can drive us.”

“Sounds great.”

“So how long have you taken classes here?”

Christen fastened her seatbelt. “Mm, probably about four years. I found it as soon as I moved here from Texas.”

“How long did you dance as a kid?”

“Until I was sixteen. I loved it, and I had a teacher who thought I had the potential to pursue it professionally, but my parents weren’t for it. And we decided that I should quit dancing after my sophomore year so that I could focus on the SATs and college prep.”

“’We’ decided?” Tobin challenged.

Christen gave her a small smile. “Well, my dad decided.” She turned off the car. “Here we are.” She pushed open her door and Tobin had no choice but to follow her into the restaurant. The hostess sat them at a cozy table in the middle and Christen immediately began to scan the menu. “Man I would love nothing more than a giant burger, with cheese and bacon, maybe a side of tator tots…”

Tobin laughed. “Then get it. You deserve it.”

Christen hummed. “Not today, unfortunately. Oh!” She placed the menu back on the table. “I have news.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. The club that I used to dance at is having a VIP night. They’re bringing in some fan favorites, and I’ve been asked to go on.”

“Really?”

Christen nodded. “Yup! It’s been in talks for… jeez, months, but nothing was finalized until yesterday.” She rolled her eyes. “Typical show biz, putting it off until the last minute. But yeah, got any hot plans tonight?”

“Wait, you’re dancing tonight?”

She laughed. “Like I said, last minute. I mean if you have something else you need to be doing, I get it, it’s not a lot of notice, but I don’t really dance much anymore so it’ll pretty much be your only shot to see me.”

“No, I don’t have any plans.” Tobin laughed. “I mean, you’re pretty much the only person I know here. What else would I be doing?”

“Just making sure you didn’t have some sort of hot date,” Christen teased, biting the tip of her tongue.

“Just you.” The words felt weird as soon as they came out of Tobin’s mouth, but the waiter stepped up just then, saving her from having to backtrack.

“Hi! I’ll take your Beyond Burger, please.”

“Okay, and for you Miss?”

Tobin glanced down at the menu. “Uh… a cheeseburger, I guess.”

Christen handed her menu to the waiter. “And we’ll split an order of the truffle fries, please.” She smiled at Tobin as he walked away. “You can eat most of them, I’ll only have a few.”

“I mean, you said you’re starving, you can have the whole thing.”

“No, I don’t want to be bloated for the show tonight.”

“So what time will you go on?”

“The show starts at eight, but I’m in the middle of the lineup. Honestly if you want, we can just hang out until I need to head down, that way you can meet the other girls and see some behind the scenes stuff.”

“Oh sick, yeah. That would be awesome! Is… Will everyone be okay with me being there?”

Christen nodded with a smile. “Everyone’s going to love you.”

X

The afternoon was very chill, the two of them hanging out at Christen’s house and watching Netflix. At one point Christen went upstairs to take a shower and Tobin took the time to look at the few framed photos that were on the walls. One was of a very young Christen, maybe six, cheesing hard at the camera between a woman with Christen’s same light-colored eyes and a tall black man. Another showed Christen wearing high school graduation robes next to two girls who looked very similar to her.

“Those are my sisters.” Tobin turned to look at her. “Channing and Tyler.”

“You guys look a lot alike.”

“Thanks.”

“And your parents… I didn’t realize you were half black.”

Christen nodded, coming to look at the picture of her and her parents. “A lot of people don’t. I’m very white passing.”

“How does that affect your life?”

Christen hummed, considering the question. “To a lot of people I’m not Black enough. Which is problematic, full stop. I don’t like the idea that anyone can be not ‘x’ enough. But it’s especially problematic in my industry, because there are a lot of times, especially when I was still primarily a dancer, that clubs would only want one Black girl, or maybe two. It’s pretty much how you’re marketed; we have blondes, we have redheads, we have Latinas, we have Asian girls, we have Black girls. Which is diminishing. But especially when you don’t squarely fit into any of those categories… it’s tough. Because if a club only has two Black girls, you can bet they want girls who fulfil what men are picturing. It plays into stereotypes.”

“It’s racist.”

“Oh for sure. But since I look the way I do, I’ve had people assume I’m Cuban, or Latina in some way. I’ve had directors ask if I can do a Spanish accent.”

“Yikes.”

“Oh yeah,” Christen snorted. She glanced at her watch. “Alright, we need to head that way, let me just grab my bag.”

Christen didn’t say much as they drove across town, instead turning up the radio and nodding along. Tobin kept her questions to herself, feeling like she might need this time to prepare.

Christen parked in a back parking lot and led Tobin to a back door. She punched in a key code and let them inside. Tobin followed her down a long hallway until she pushed open a door marked ‘Employees Only.’

“Pressy!” A squeal echoed through the dressing room and a set of arms were thrown around Christen who hugged the girl back.

“Allie, hey!”

“Ooh, and who is this?”

Christen stepped to the side, beckoning Tobin forward. “Ladies, this is Tobin. She’s the photojournalist that I messaged you guys about. Tobin, this is Allie.” The blonde who was still holding on to Christen gave her a smile. “That’s Crystal in the corner.” A petite Black woman gave her a big wave, then went back to rubbing lotion into her arms. “And this is Alex.” A brunette with striking blue eyes blew on the fake eyelash in her hand then smiled at Tobin.

“How are you?”

“I’m good, good.” Tobin watched as she gently placed the eyelash along her lash line, holding it in place as the glue dried.

“Is this your first time in a strip club?”

“Allie,” Christen laughed.

“Uh, I’ve been once before. But it was a male strip club for my sister’s bachelorette party, And I definitely wasn’t allowed back in the dressing rooms.” The girls all laughed.

“Take that as a blessing, honey. Who knows what kind of gross stuff happens in a dudes’ dressing room,” Allie cracked.

“You can set your things down right here, I’m going to start getting ready.” Christen positioned Tobin so that she would be out of the way, then started unloading her bag in front of one of the mirrors.

“So how long have you been dancing?” Tobin asked Alex.

“Eight years.”

“And I’m assuming you enjoy it?”

“I like it a hell of a lot more than waiting tables.”

“You would be the worst waitress ever,” Allie quipped. “The moment someone asked for extra Ranch you would be down their throats.”

“Well, people love to ask for extras for free, and that’s not how the world works.” Alex rolled her eyes then looked back at Tobin. “I really was a shitty waitress,” she laughed.

“How long have you known Christen?”

“Oh, we go back years. We actually danced together in California, I was the one who suggested she ditch Houston and come up here.”

“Oh that’s awesome.”

“I remember baby Pressy’s first strip.” Alex clasped her hands together in fake nostalgia. “So cute. So innocent.”

“So bad at her job,” Christen cut in playfully.

“Eh, you were never bad. A little nervous at first, but you took to it instantly. You’re a natural.”

“You must have been one of those kids that was constantly swinging around on every pole you came into contact with,” Allie teased.

“Very funny,” Christen rolled her eyes.

“What about you, Tobin? Did you ever think about a life on the pole?”

Tobin cracked up. “Uh… no. Absolutely not,” she replied firmly, earning a raised eyebrow from Allie. “Not that, that I have anything against stripping, I mean, dancing. I just… I’m perfectly happy being on this side of a camera. I don’t like a lot of people looking at me. Plus, I’m probably the unsexiest person in existence. I can’t imagine anyone paying money to see me take my clothes off.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Harry. I’m sure once you have a few shots of tequila in you, you can move with the best of ‘em.”

“Harry?” Tobin asked.

“Y’know. Like the movie When Harry Met Sally.”

“Uh… okay.” Tobin didn’t quite catch Allie’s reference, and the blonde didn’t elaborate any further.

There was a knock on the door. “This is your five minute call. Crystal, be ready to take the stage at eight o’clock sharp.”

Tobin watched as Crystal inspected herself in the mirror, smoothing her hands over her outfit. She glanced over at Tobin with a grin.

“What do ya think? Do I look good?”

“Uh, yeah! You look… look great!” She cursed herself for the light blush that rose in her cheeks, the other women giggling at her. _Give me a break, I’m only human. _

“You’re sweet,” Crystal laughed.

“C’mon Harry, let’s get you set up out in the audience so that you can watch the performance.” Allie grabbed Tobin’s hand and began to pull her from the room. She waved goodbye to Christen.

“Uh… break a leg?”

Christen wrinkled her nose as she grinned. “Thanks!”

Allie led her to a curtained off doorway. She peeked through and gestured towards a bar along the wall. “Go sit there. Tell her you’re a guest of Christen, not Autumn Annie. She’ll take care of you.” She shoved her unceremoniously through the curtain, leaving Tobin no choice but to grip her camera and shoulder through the crowd.

She dropped onto a barstool and waited for the bartender to get to her.

“Hey, what can I get you?”

“Uh… I’m here as a guest of Christen?” The woman stared at her for a moment, her face not revealing anything. “Um, Allie told me to come sit over here.”

Finally, she smiled. “Any friend of Christen’s is a friend of mine. I’m Kelley.” She offered Tobin her hand. “So what do you want to drink?”

“Uh, I’ll take a whiskey soda, and a glass of water, please.” The drinks were placed in front of her and she tied to hand Kelley her card.

“No no, you’re a guest. Your money’s no good here.”

“I’m a guest too!” a guy a few stools down insisted. “Do I get a free drink?”

Kelley gave him a look. “Not likely.”

The lights dimmed and Tobin took a drink of her whiskey before turning to look at the stage. Crystal took the stage and Tobin could only reaffirm her previous opinion; she looked great. She found herself a little in awe so the moves she was executing on the pole. She could tell that while Crystal made it look effortless, it required a lot of strength and dexterity.

Alex was next and Tobin could feel the men around her practically drooling. But after she finished, the emcee announced that next on the stage would be Annie Autumn and she snapped into work mode. The lights changed and the music began to play. She checked the focus on her camera, she wanted to make sure that she got some good shots of-

_Oh my god._

Christen had still been in her sweats when Tobin had been in the dressing room, so she hadn’t seen her outfit. She felt her breath catch hard in her chest as she let her eyes take her in from head to toe. If she had thought Christen’s legs were long when she was watching the ballet class, that was nothing compared to seeing her in a pair of stiletto heels. She grasped the pole with one hand, her leg slowly extending then swinging around to wrap around the pole.

Tobin swallowed thickly as she watched her dance, her hands skated along her body as Lizzo crooned from the club speakers.

_I don't see nobody else_  
'Scuse me while I feel myself  
'Scuse me while I feel myself

Money was already hitting the stage, the men surrounding the stage eating up Christen’s performance. Tobin couldn’t tear her eyes away from the way she was moving, her body almost cat like. She tilted her head back, her hair hanging free as she arched backwards, her hips still managing to swing gently from side to side as she took on the almost unworldly position.

She shook herself from her daze long enough to lift her camera, catching some action shots of Christen dancing. As the music moved into the bridge, Christen came onto all fours, slowly moving across the stage towards the audience. At the last second, she glanced up, making direct eye contact with Tobin, her eyes containing a look that Tobin hadn’t been expecting.

_I don't need a crown to know that I'm a queen_

_I don't need a crown to know that I'm a queen_

Tobin felt her entire body flush hot from head to toe, her skin breaking out in a sweat. Thankfully something in her continued on autopilot, snapping pictures as Christen kept dancing, because a much larger part of her was fixated on visions of Christen underneath her, on top of her, beside her, against a wall, in a bath tub…

The song came to a stop, Christen finishing with a hair flip and a flourish, her arms pushing her chest out in just the right way, her lip caught between her teeth. Tobin tried desperately not to think of things she could do to make Christen bite her lip like that. As Christen left the stage she spun back around on her stool, grabbing her whiskey and taking a huge gulp. The burn of the alcohol made her cough and suddenly a napkin was being thrust into her hand.

When she stopped coughing, she glanced up to see Kelley raising her eyebrow at her.

“You good?”

_No. I’m absolutely not good. I’m having completely unprofessional thoughts about a subject, I am the opposite of good, I am completely, utterly fucked._

“Yeah,” she gasped. “I’m fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How are we feeling, lads?
> 
> Also the song that CP dances to is Scuse Me by Lizzo


	6. Open Wide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christen brings Tobin with her to the doctor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Sex Worker Wednesday!
> 
> Sorry it's later in the day than usual, I got to work only to find out that we were closed for Thanksgiving break but no one had told me :):):) So I hung out in the city for a while before coming back to Brooklyn

Tobin walked into the kitchen of her Airbnb to wash out her bowl. She had been very careful since moving in to choose one glass, one bowl, one plate, and one set of utensils to keep in her room with her, not wanting to have to poke through the piles of dirty dishes in the sink anytime she wanted to eat. She rinsed out the leftover milk from her cereal, squirting a little soap in and swishing it around with her fingers since there wasn’t a sponge in sight. She ran it under the water again then turned to walk back to her room.

The doorway was blocked by one of the other inhabitants of the house, a girl around Tobin’s age who she occasionally passed in the hallway. She looked up from the phone in her hands. “Have you talked to Josh?”

“Uh… no. I haven’t.” Tobin had been doing her best not to talk to anyone, instead keeping to herself, shut up in her room when she wasn’t with Christen. “Is everything okay?”

The girl threw her hair over her shoulder. “He’s being a dick. Getting all up in my face, talking about how we need to do more around the house while we’re staying here. As if he’s not charging us three hundred dollars to sleep on a mattress in the living room.”

“Oh… wow,” she replied awkwardly.

“I mean, I don’t need him on my fucking case, you know? I have three kids, I don’t need him bossing me around, telling me what to do!”

_Wait, where are your kids? _Tobin shook her head slightly, ignoring her curiosity. It was none of her business. “That sucks, bro.”

“Right? Like, if I wanted to listen to someone bitch at me, I’d be back at my mom’s place. I’m Paige, by the way.”

“Tobin.” _Does her mom have custody of the three kids? Are they maybe with their dad? Does that mean that the guy she’s sharing the living room mattress with isn’t the dad? _Tobin tried to rein in her journalistic brain. Thankfully, her phone went off just then, and she pulled it out to see a text from Christen.

**‘I’m outside! :)’**

“Oh shit, I didn’t realize what time it is. Sorry,” she gave the girl an apologetic half smile, edging past her.

“I’m just saying, if he thinks I’m gonna clean up after him he’s lost his mind,” the girl, Paige, grumbled under her breath.

Tobin nodded as she made her way to her room. “Yeah. Totally.” She put her bowl back on the dresser and grabbed her jacket from the top of her suitcase along with her camera bag. She heard the bathroom door shut and when she peeked her head out of her room, she thankfully saw no sign of Paige. She quickly made her way out to the street, hopping into Christen’s car who was peering at the house with interest.

“So this is your AirBnb?”

“Yup.” She buckled her seatbelt.

“Do you like the host?”

“Uh… I don’t see him much, honestly. I just had a fascinating conversation with the girl who’s staying in the living room, though.”

“Wait, staying where? How many people live there?”

“Honestly… I couldn’t even tell you.”

Christen gave a little hum, her eyebrows furrowed. “Well, I want to come over and see it sometime.”

“Eh… it’s not much to see.” Tobin was embarrassed about her pitiful living situation, especially after seeing Christen’s immaculate home. “So what’s on the agenda for today?” she asked, changing the subject.

“Well, I guess I should have asked this in advance, but how do you feel about doctors and hospitals?”

Tobin shrugged. “They don’t bother me, really.”

“Great! Because we’re headed to a medical clinic.”

“Oh… are you not feeling well?” Tobin asked, instantly concerned. A small voice in the back of her head that sounded suspiciously like her best friend Ashlyn wondered if that was professional, but she reasoned that it was understandable that she wouldn’t want Christen to be feeling badly. It could derail her journalistic process, delaying her turning things in on time, and besides, they were friends! It was normal to want your friends to be healthy. It had nothing to do with how beautiful she found Christen’s eyes, or the fact that every time Tobin laid down to go to sleep her mind played the memory of watching her dance on loop. Nothing at all.

“Oh no, I’m fine!” Tobin relaxed. “Just standard testing. Gotta make sure everyone’s happy and healthy,” she smiled. “The film company I work for requires that we’re tested every thirty days. And it’s your lucky day because it’s also time for my yearly exam, so it’s just gonna be a fun time all around!” Christen laughed.

Tobin leaned back in her seat. “Oh, so we’re going to a gynecologist.”

Christen nodded. “Is that alright?”

She shrugged. “Yeah, that’s fine. Although, now I’m trying to remember when my last check up was…” She thought about it for a moment. “This summer, I think. So I’m fine. Because it’s only once a year, right? Since I’m just a normal person?”

Christen gave her an offended look. “A normal person? And what does that make me exactly?”

Tobin’s eyes widened. “No! I didn’t mean-” She groaned as Christen burst out laughing. “That’s not what I meant. You’re a normal person, Well, not normal, you’re awesome, obviously, I just-”

“I know what you meant. And for the record, I think you’re awesome too,” she teased with a wink. The action made Tobin’s stomach flutter, and she focused on messing with her beanie until she could calm down. “But to answer your question, yeah, it’s once a year for an STD panel if you’re in a monogamous relationship or not seeing anyone at all. So unless you’ve recently started seeing someone…”

Tobin nodded, then shook her head when she noticed Christen looking at her. “Nope. I uh… I broke up with my ex about a year ago, so…” She let out a long, slow breath.

“Uh oh.”

“What?”

“Nothing! Just… a sigh like that usually means it was a messy split.”

Tobin with her phone case. “It… I don’t know. It was just one of those things that has to eventually happen, I think. I really loved Shirley, and we were good together until… we weren’t.” She shrugged. “Nothing big happened, there was no cheating or anything. Our lives were just going in different directions, and we fought it for a while but eventually had to give in. But I would still consider her to be a friend. I mean, we spent two years together.”

“Two years, wow.”

“Yeah.”

“But no one since? No summer fling? No cute Jersey girls have caught your eye?”

_Not in New Jersey, no. _“Nah. But what about you? When was your last relationship?”

Christen raised an eyebrow. “Who’s to say I’m not in a relationship right now?”

“Oh, I didn’t…” Tobin’s heart sank, of course Christen was in a relationship. She tried to bat away her disappointment. “What’s their name?”

Christen rolled her eyes as she started to laugh again. “Tobin, I’m obviously just teasing you!”

Tobin joined in with her, ignoring the hope that was rising back up. “You’re in a sassy mood today!”

“Well I can’t help it that you’re so gullible!” Christen pulled into a parking lot. “No, I’m not currently in a relationship. I’ve been single for about six months.”

“I see.”

“It was pretty much the same thing. Vero and I were only together for about a year, though. Although…”

“What?”

Christen put the car in park and stared out the front windshield for a moment. “She had a hard time… reconciling who I am with what I do for a living. She… hated the idea of men looking at me, let alone me having sex with men and other people watching. And… I get it! It’s a weird mind fuck. But my heart was always true to her. Unfortunately, that wasn’t enough.”

“I’m sorry,” Tobin whispered.

“It’s fine.” Christen gave her head a quick shake as if to clear it, but didn’t move from the driver’s seat. “This job… it’s cost me a lot. I’ve gained so much in financial stability and confidence and a feeling of power, but I’ve had to sacrifice a lot of things. Normal things that other people take for granted. Relationships with people I care about…”

“Like your family?” Tobin probed gently. Christen gave her a tight smile.

“I don’t… Let’s not get into that right now. I’m not saying it’s off topic, but… I mean I’m already getting a Pap smear, let’s not make today more invasive then it has to be,” she finished with a forced laugh. She got out of the car and Tobin followed.

“Christen, I don’t want it to ever feel like I’m being invasive. I never want to make you feel uncomfortable, and I’m sorry if I have.”

She gave her a little smile, bumping her shoulder against Tobin’s as they walked up the sidewalk. “You’re not, not at all. You’ve been wonderful. It’s just a bit of a sensitive subject, and I’m not really in the mood to talk about it right now.”

“And that’s totally fine.”

Christen approached the reception desk, and the nurse gave her a smile. “Hi Christen.”

“Hi Diana, how have you been?”

The small brunette shrugged. “Same old, same old, can’t complain. And you? How are the puppies?”

“So good! Although they’re even more ready for spring than I am. Every time I let them out, Khaleesi looks at me as if I’m the cruelest mom on earth, making her go out in the snow.”

Diana chuckled. “Well, we’re running ahead of schedule for a change, so you can actually go ahead and come straight back.”

“Perfect!” Tobin followed Christen into an exam room where she was given two gowns to change into.

“Oh, I’ll just, I’ll step outside.”

“Don’t be silly. I’ll just step behind the curtain, you’re fine.”

Tobin turned and studied the posters on the wall, trying desperately not to think about just how attracted she was to the woman stripping down behind her. “So uh, you and the nurse seem to get along pretty well.”

“Yeah well, when you go somewhere on a monthly basis, it just makes sense to get to know the staff.”

“And they know about what you do for a living?”

“You can turn around.” She did, pausing for a moment to notice how unfairly pretty Christen looked in the ridiculous paper gowns. “Yeah. I mean, I know that Dr. Sinclair does. I assume that the nurses do because it’s on my chart. But I’ve never discussed it with them.”

There was a knock and a nurse ducked in to take some blood. Tobin watched, not realizing that she was feeling a little light-headed until Christen reached out to touch her shoulder.

“You okay?”

“Uh… yeah, I…”

“Maybe you should sit down,” the nurse suggested with a slight chuckle. Tobin did as she was told, giving Christen a sheepish grin.

“Sorry, I can sometimes get like this when I have blood drawn, but I didn’t expect to have a problem just watching.”

Christen smiled. “Well maybe someday you’ll be an old pro at it like me. I can give blood like it’s my job. Which, I guess is lucky, because it kind of is.”

The nurse finished up, handing Christen a small plastic cup and telling them the doctor would be in soon. “Do you have to give blood every time?”

"Yup. Not a lot, but enough. And then I have to do a cheek swab, a throat swab, a vaginal swab. Occasionally an anal swab, it just depends on what my workload's been like," she giggled. "And than I have to..." She cut off awkwardly, holding up the cup. "Y'know. Do the pee test."

Tobin couldn’t help but laugh. “Are you getting bashful talking about pee?”

Christen's face flushed. “Well it’s gross!”

“Grosser than talking about… cum shots? Or some of the other stuff you’ve said to me?”

Christen covered her face with a hand. “Well I don’t work in the pee industry!”

She stepped out of the room to use the bathroom down the hall, and Tobin smiled down at her phone, trying to wrap her mind around how someone could say 'anal swab' without a second thought, but be mortified about talking about urine.

Christen slipped back inside, one hand behind her back. 

"Alright, let's see it."

She shook her head, her blush returning. "No way!"

"C'mon-"

There was a knock on the door and the two of them worked to pull themselves together as a tall woman whose short brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail. “Hey there, Christen.”

“Hi Dr. Sinclair.”

“How have you been?”

“I’ve been well, thank you. And this is Tobin, we’re working together on a project. She’s a photojournalist.”

“Ah,” the doctor nodded, eyeing Tobin’s camera bag. “Well, no photography in here, please.”

“Of course.”

“Any changes since the last time you were in? Any new relationships?”

Christen shook her head. “Nope. Nothing new on the romance front.”

“Got it. Any new co-stars or clients?”

“No, all people I’ve worked with before.”

“Alright, well then let’s get started.” Tobin stayed in her chair as the doctor began her examination, pointedly averting her eyes to stare hard at her phone when the breast and cervical examinations were performed, not wanting to see something she wasn’t supposed to.

It was all over very quickly, and before she knew it Dr. Sinclair was letting herself out of the exam room and Christen was changing behind the curtain again.

“So you see her every single month?”

“Every thirty days, yeah.”

“That’s… rough. I can’t imagine having to go that often.”

“It’s not so bad. Just part of the job.” Christen came back around the curtain, zipping up her ankle boot.

“Still. The cost must add up.”

“It does. I have insurance, but it doesn’t cover everything. I do thankfully get to claim it as a work expense on my taxes, though,” she laughed.

“What about other girls?”

She sighed as she led Tobin out of the clinic, waving goodbye to the receptionist as she did. “It’s rough. Girls don’t trust doctors, so they don’t make the appointments they need, which is a huge problem in every corner of the industry. Because yes, sex workers need to be having STD panels done, but it goes beyond that. The black and white facts are that sex workers are more likely to experience sexual and physical violence, especially if they are a person of color or an outside worker. And they need to be treated for those physical injuries obviously, but also for the emotional trauma that comes along with that. Sex workers are more likely to suffer from anxiety and depression, and some studies suggest we experience PTSD at the same or higher rate as veterans.”

“What? That’s insane.”

“I know. But no one talks about it. And so they don’t receive the help they need.”

“Do you struggle with mental health issues?”

Christen was quiet as she let them into the car. “Not really,” she finally said. “I don’t suffer from PTSD, and anxiety isn’t something I struggle with. Depression… I’ve had my brushes with it. Nothing that couldn’t be solved with talk therapy and some low-level antidepressants. But I’m also lucky. I’m an escort and a performer, I’m not one of the girls who’s walking the streets. I operate from a place of privilege that not everyone else has.”

She turned to look at Tobin head on. “Those are the girls I’m fighting for. Yes, I would love to not have the threat of jail hanging over my head because I’m an escort, I wish I didn’t face stigma and prejudice, I wish everyone could just be more open about what they want and need. But they need decrim on a whole other level. I’m not exaggerating when I say it’s a matter of life or death.”

“Why?”

“When girls face violence on the streets, they don’t report it. Oregon recently passed a bill saying that they wouldn’t prosecute sex workers who came forward reporting rape and sexual assault, but we need more than that. If I have a client who refuses to pay after he receives my services, what can I do? It’s theft of labor, and it’s rape, I mean, that’s obtaining my consent under false pretenses, but I can’t go to the police. Not to mention that police are one of the biggest threats to sex workers safety.”

“What do you mean?”

“A lot of times when a girl gets busted for solicitation, the cops end up dirty. Or they assault a sex worker and threaten to arrest her for solicitation if she reports him.” Christen rubbed at her eyes for a moment. “I’ll have to get Becky’s number so you can sit down with her, she has the numbers and statistics and reports to back this all up. I don’t remember them off the top of my head.”

“That’s awful,” Tobin said softly. “I mean, that’s a vast understatement, but I just… I can’t even imagine. Well, I can a little bit, after working with the girls at Albion, but still.”

Christen took a deep breath, then turned to give Tobin another tight smile. “People ask me why I’m so out spoken about the need for decriminalization, why I would put myself at risk. My family… they don’t like that I do this, and they especially hate that I’m an activist for it. But I have a platform, and I have to use it.” Her voice wavered slightly, and Tobin laid a hand on her arm. “Because if I don’t… who else is going to speak for us?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have any questions or would like to read the articles I use to write this, just let me know! But more importantly, how did you like this chapter?!
> 
> Happy Thanksgiving! If you're out and about in America this holiday weekend, make sure to be extra nice to your servers and retail workers who are giving up time with their families for you. We'll appreciate it more than we can say!


	7. Take Me Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christen gets a look at Tobin's living situation and makes a change

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gobble gobble bitches

Tobin leaned against the wall, her Macbook propped up on her knees. “No, I would say it’s going really well.”

Ashlyn leaned forward, as if she was studying her screen. “Are you sitting on the ground?”

She rolled her eyes. “No. I’m on my bed.”

“A mattress on the ground is not a bed,” a voice off camera said, and a moment later Ali settled next to Ashlyn on their couch. She passed her wife a plate of apple slices and yogurt.

“Well, it’s what I have for the moment.”

“I thought the guy said he was moving you to the other room?”

Tobin sighed. “He’s fixing the heater or something. I don’t know. It’s honestly fine, I’m never really here. I spend most of my time with Christen.”

“Chriiiisten,” Ashlyn teased in a sing songy voice, earning an eye roll from Tobin and an elbow in the ribs from Ali. “How’s everyone’s favorite porn star doing?”

“She’s… great.”

Both women looked at her expectantly through the screen. “Great? That’s all you’re going to give us?” Ali asked.

“Well, what do you want me to say? We hang out most days. Since the show at the club she’s mostly just had office days. Low key stuff, answering emails, scheduling, doctor’s appointments…”

“I like how you try to breeze over the show at the club like she didn’t rock your fucking world,” Ashlyn chuckled.

Tobin chose to roll her eyes again, not having any words to defend herself.

“So what’s the plan? Are you gonna wait until the project is over and then ask her out?” Ali took a bite of apple.

“What? She can’t wait that long, she’ll explode of blue balls. Plus, what’s the point in waiting until she’s about to come home to shoot her shot?”

“Guys, I can’t shoot my shot. Period. She… this is my job. She’s a subject. I can’t let this get messy, I would be compromising myself as a journalist. There are boundaries and I have to respect them.”

“Oh please,” Ashlyn snorted, waving a hand. “As if you don’t live to push boundaries. I mean, what about the girl you made friends with at the prison? Melissa?”

“Mal-”

“You don’t think it’s crossing a line to still be in contact with her? To be accepting her collect calls and sending her packages?”

“She doesn’t have anyone, her family-”

“If anything, this is more within the boundaries, I mean she is a hooker-”

“Hey.” Ashlyn cut off at Tobin’s hard voice. “Don’t call her that.”

“Dude, you know I don’t mean anything by it-”

“Just because she has sex with other people, doesn’t mean I get to demand she have sex with me.”

“I’m not…” Ashlyn sighed. “I’m gonna grab some water.” Tobin was silent as Ashlyn walked away from the screen.

“Hey. She didn’t mean to come off like that,” Ali told her gently.

“I know, it’s just… the whole thing is complicated.”

“Yeah.” Ali hummed. “Man, you really have it bad, don’t you?”

“She’s just my subject-”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Tobin. I heard you telling Ashlyn about the strip club. I can see the look on your face when you talk about her.”

Tobin buried her face in her hands. “The whole thing is hopeless. The sooner I can rid of this crush, the better off-” She was cut off by a knock on her door. “Uh… one second.” She stood up from the mattress, cracking open the door to find Josh. “Hey dude.”

“Yo, there’s some girl at the door for you. She’s hot, too.” He gave her a wide grin. “She got a boyfriend?”

“I don’t… I’ll be right there.” She turned back to her laptop, where Ali was staring intently. “I have to go, I think Christen just showed up at my AirBnb.”

“Oh! Text us, let us know what happens!”

“Okay, okay, I’ve gotta go, love you, bye.” She hurriedly disconnected the facetime call and made her way to the front door, straightening her sweater.

Sure enough, when she opened the door she found Christen on the other side, smiling brightly with a paper bag of groceries in her arms.

“Hi!”

“Hey! Uh, did we make plans and I forgot? I could have met you somewhere, you didn’t have to-”

Christen pushed past her into the house. “No, we didn’t have plans. But you still hadn’t invited me over so I thought I’d take the liberty of doing it myself. This is the AirBnb?”

Tobin could do nothing but shut the door and awkwardly lead her to the kitchen. “Uh, yeah. You, you didn’t need to…” Christen stepped into the kitchen and her eyes widened.

“Oh. Wow, this is… Okay.”

“Yeah…” Embarrassment slithered down Tobin’s spine. “Uh, if you want to sit that on the counter for now, we can go in my room.”

“Okay.” Christen followed her down the hall.

“This… is it.” Tobin folded her arms uncomfortably. “I’m sorry that there’s no place for you to sit.”

“This is… wow. This is where you’ve been staying?”

“Yeah. And I mean, it’s not so bad. Somewhere to sleep. A roof over my head.”

“I see…” Christen’s eyes took in every detail of the room. “Is this… how you live in Jersey?”

“No!” Tobin gave a short laugh. “Not at all. But… I mean, my editors have been… well, hesitant about this project. So I wasn’t given an advance. Which normally isn’t an issue, because I’m either at my own apartment or staying with friends and family. But I didn’t really know anyone here, so I had to use my savings to rent somewhere. This place was pretty much the cheapest of the cheap. And… I mean, I got what I paid for.”

“Got it.” She turned to Tobin, forcing a smile to her face. “Well, let’s get started on lunch.” She turned on her heel, leaving no room for argument, so Tobin dutifully followed her to the kitchen.

Both women tried to act as if they weren’t surrounded by other people’s filth, trying to clear enough counter space to prepare the grain bowls Christen had planned.

“Oh, I need a can opener for the beans,” Christen mused.

“Uh… I don’t know that we have one, but I’ll check.” Tobin opened one of the cabinets and swept her hand along one of nearly empty shelves. Her hand touched something and when she pulled back, she knocked a cockroach onto the counter. Both she and Christen let out short, sharp squeals, both squirming away from where it landed and began to skitter away.

“That’s it. No way.” Christen looked like she might vomit.

“I’m so sorry,” Tobin quickly began, but Christen cut her off.

“Nope. You can’t stay here. C’mon, we’re packing up your things.”

Tobin followed her to the bedroom. “Christen, I already paid for two months, I won’t be able to get any money back and I can’t afford-”

She held up a hand. “You can stay with me. I have two guest rooms, there’s no way in hell I’m letting you stay in this place. Pack your things.”

“What- no. Christen, I can’t put you out like that, it’s really not so bad-”

“No Tobin. You can’t stay here. Please, consider it a favor to me.” She grabbed both of Tobin’s hands, squeezing them. “It won’t be putting me out at all. It’ll be nice to have the company, and I’m never going to be able to sleep again knowing that you’re living here.”

“Still, I don’t want to be all up in your business-”

“Tobin you’re already writing a piece about me. My business _is_ your business. And just think of it like this, you’ll get even more behind the scenes stuff if you’re staying in my house. So will you please pack your stuff so we can get the fuck out of this bug infested hell-hole?”

Her insistent tone let Tobin know she wasn’t going to win this fight. “I mean… if you’re sure. But if you get sick of me, just say the word and I’ll get a hotel, I’ll put it on my credit card and sort it out later-”

“Tobin.” She raised her eyes. “Please just pack your things.”

X

There were no words to describe the levels of nervousness and panic that were coursing through Tobin’s body as Christen showed her into her guest room.

“The bed in here is pretty comfy! The other room gets better sunlight, but that’s where I have all of my yoga stuff set up. Although, if you wanted, I could move my mat and the mirror to this room?” She peered at Tobin. “It’s whatever you want.”

“No, this is fine! I mean, you saw my AirBnb, this is practically a castle compared to there. Seriously, thank you so much.”

“Don’t even mention it! This way I know you’re safe and healthy and not being eaten alive by bugs.” She gave a shudder. “I can’t believe that you stayed there this entire time.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Tobin tried to downplay, but Christen gave her a look. “Alright, it was pretty bad. But I made do. I showered at the gym.”

Christen rolled her eyes. “Well feel free to take advantage of the bathrooms here at _Press Palace, _they come with a 100% insect and disease free guarantee, or your money back!”

Tobin ran a hand through her hair. “Speaking of, how much do you want me to pay you? I can go to the bank tomorrow or I can venmo you-”

“Tobin. You’re not paying to stay with me.”

“Christen-”

“No way. And you’re not changing my mind, so don’t even try,” she said, sticking out her tongue. “But, since our lunch was abandoned at the AirBnb, you _can_ pay for delivery.”

Tobin chuckled. “Alright what do you want?”

When Christen left Tobin to get her stuff settled, she pulled out her phone to text Ashlyn.

**‘So… I may have just moved into Christen’s house.’**

She began to move her stuff into the drawers of the dresser, picking up her phone when it vibrated.

**‘Jesus Tobin, I said you should shoot your shot, not to pull a full U-haul lesbian.’**

She rolled her eyes.

**‘Ha ha ha. There was a cockroach situation at the AirBnb. She insisted I leave.’**

**‘Sounds like you both share similar opinions about cock’**

**‘You’re the worst’**

**‘You love me. I better be your best man at the wedding’**

**‘Whatever dude’**

The days settled into an easy rhythm. In the morning Tobin would wake up and the two would go for a short run around Christen’s neighborhood, waving back at the neighbors setting off for the day, When they got back home, Tobin would shower while Christen meditated and did some yoga, then she would start coffee. They’d have breakfast then work for a bit on their laptops, both dogs sharing the space between them on the couch.

One night they decided to split a bottle of wine with dinner, resulting in them both giggly and a little drunk.

“How did you not know there was going to be a burlesque show at the bar?” Christen asked, her cheeks pink and eyes twinkling.

“I swear to God, I checked the website and it hadn’t said there was any sort of events happening. But leave it to my luck for there to not only be a burlesque show but a Jim Henson themed show at the bar I picked for a first date,” she groaned good naturedly. “I don’t think the date would have gone anywhere regardless, there just wasn’t that pull of attraction, but definitely not after watching a man dressed as Big Bird do a strip tease.”

Christen wiped at her eyes, pouring the last of the bottle into her glass. “Okay, fine, you win worst first date.”

“Ha!” Tobin gave a stupid little fist pump, the alcohol making her feel loose and languid. “What do I win?”

“Well that depends, what do you want?” Christen quipped.

Tobin found herself staring into soft green eyes, her body leaning forward without her permission, and she quickly sat back, pushing back her hair with a laugh. “Mmm. What do I want… world peace, I guess. Or a Pulitzer Prize for Explanatory Reporting.”

“Oh is that all? Piece of cake, I’ll get right on that,” she laughed.

Tobin turned her head, studying Christen’s face. “What about you,” she murmured. “What do you want?”

“Hm… I want a grilled cheese, with a side of bacon, and maybe some rocky road ice cream.”

Tobin gave her a lazy grin, her head lolling back to rest on the back of the couch. “But seriously. If you could have anything in the world, no holds barred, what would you want, Chris?” The nickname slipped from her lips without her realizing it.

Her face faltered, and she stared into her wine glass for a few moments. Tobin waited.

“I want my mom back,” she finally whispered. “She… She had a brain tumor. It was… hard and fast. And I… I didn’t get to spend a lot of time with her in the time between her diagnosis and the end. I wanted to, but… my Dad and I, every time I was home, we would end up fighting, going round for round, screaming and yelling. And it would upset her, make her cry, so in the end it felt like maybe if it would be better if I wasn’t there.” She took a shaky breath. “She had an aneurysm. She was on life support, I made it to California to say goodbye and then… she was gone.”

Tobin reached over and took her hand. “I’m so, so sorry, Chris.”

She nodded quickly, sniffing back tears. “It’s been about a year. And it’s been rough. It really felt like she was the glue holding us all together sometimes. And now… Now she’s gone. And I feel untethered.”

“From your family?”

“From everyone. Sometimes it feels like I don’t know who I am. Even though she didn’t… she didn’t like what I did, by any means, she still made sure that I knew how fiercely she loved me. And now she’s not here, and it gets so lonely…”

“Do you talk to your dad at all? Your sisters?”

“My dad: no. Not really. He… He had a very clear vision for what my life was supposed to be: Stanford undergrad, one of the Ivy’s for law school, eventually taking over his law practice. It wasn’t being a porn star and a whore.” Her voice was uncharacteristically hard.

“I don’t think you’re a whore,” Tobin murmured quietly.

Christen smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I mean, it’s all semantics. But he’s been very honest about how he feels about my life choices.”

“What about your sisters?”

“We still talk, but they don’t like it either. We don’t see each other as often as I would like.”

Tobin squeezed her hand. “That’s hard. I have two older sisters and a brother, I… you must miss them a lot.”

“I do.” Christen stared straight ahead. “And I don’t think… people don’t realize how lonely it can get.”

“Yeah?”

“I mean… I’m having sex on film sets, and with my clients, and I’m listening to my clients’ problems. It’s not an exaggeration, when people say an escort is a cross between a therapist and a prostitute. Everyone… everyone just wants someone to listen. To hold them. To care. That’s what they’re paying for. They just want someone to take care of them.”

“But who’s taking care of you?”

Christen gave her a sad smile. “That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it?” She sniffed, sitting up a little straighter. “We should probably head to bed. I’m gonna have a headache tomorrow from this wine.”

“Me too.” Tobin stood up and stretched. “Here, I’ll help you clean up.”

“If you’ll just put the bottle in the recycling, I’ll take care of the rest.”

“Chris.” She waited until she straightened up, turning to face her. She stepped forward before she could talk herself out of it, wrapping her arms around Christen. She pressed her face into her hair. “I’m really sorry about your mom.”

“Thank you.”

Tobin stepped back and the two of them stared somewhat nervously at each other. She picked up the empty bottle. “Well… goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Tobs. Sweet dreams.”

“Sweet dreams.” Tobin disposed of the bottle then made her way upstairs. She washed her face and brushed her teeth, pulling her hair into a ponytail. She paused outside of Christen’s door, unable to decide if she was imagining the sounds of her crying quietly. Finally, she made her way to her own room, curling up in the cold bed and trying to quiet her own heart’s ache enough to go to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thankful for all of you guys, for reading this story and leaving such wonderful comments :)


	8. Don't Let Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tobin opens up to Christen about Mal, and confides her fears of not doing enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Sex Worker Wednesday!

"Eggs are healthy."

Christen rolled her eyes. "According to some studies."

Tobin waved the spatula at her. "They're a good source of protein!"

"And also cholesterol, which can lead to heart disease."

"Sure, but we ran like four miles-"

"One and a half!" Christen laughed.

"-so I really think we'll be fine."

"Okay, fair enough, but I still think we need some sort of vegetable."

Tobin rolled her eyes. "Just let me enjoy this breakfast, okay? A nice, balanced, veggie free breakfast."

"Fine. But we're having kale with lunch."

Tobin started to respond but was cut off by her phone vibrating. She pulled out her phone, recognizing the number. "Uh, can you take over on the eggs? I've got to take this."

"Sure," Christen replied, giving her an interested look as she took the offered spatula. She stepped towards the living room, pressing accept. 

"Hello?"

"You are receiving a call from inmate 12G0990-" She jabbed the one key before it could continue, and after a moment the connection clicked.

"Hello?"

"Hey Tobin."

"Hey." She sank onto the couch. "It's been a minute since I heard from you, I was starting to worry."

"Sorry. Everything's fine, I just... There's been lots of shit."

"What happened last time? Why did you have to hang up so abruptly?"

Mal's voice was quiet. "There was a riot, a guard was injured so they put everyone on lock down for four days."

"Oh god. Do you know what the riot was over?"

"It was Gaines. He was being... being his usual dickhead self, running his mouth, getting handsy, and someone snapped."

Tobin felt something in her burn. She'd observed Officer Gaines during her time investigating the prison, she knew exactly how much of an asshole he could be. "Who was it?"

She heard Mal sniff. "Adrianna."

Tobin rubbed at her eyes. "How is she doing?"

"I don't know. No one has seen her since we all went on lock down. Anytime we've tried to ask they tell us to mind our own business."

She sighed. "I'll... put in some calls. Try and figure out what happened."

"They're not going to tell you," Mal replied, her voice devoid of emotion. "They'll just say she's in solitary or something."

"And you think she's not?"

"I... I don't know." Mal sniffed again, and Tobin could tell she was trying not to cry. "I'm scared that something happened."

"I know. How are you doing?"

"I... I'm so tired, all the time. I don't have an appetite, and everything is just feeling really hopeless."

Tobin took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry you're feeling that way. Is there... is there anything I can do?"

"Will I ever get out of here, Tobin?"

"You will." She put as much conviction into her voice as she possible could. "You're almost at seven months, that means you have less than a year to go, maybe less with good behavior! You're going to get your GED and get out of there, and you're going to get to go to college, and do all sorts of things. And I know it's hard to see that it's coming, but you've just gotta trust, okay?"

"It's just... every day feels like the day before and the day after, and not in a good way. I feel like I'm going crazy."

"You're not going crazy."

"I..." Mal sighed again. "I don't feel good. I think I'm going to go lay down in my cell."

"Okay, but don't be a stranger, alright? You can call me anytime, you know that."

"I know."

"Okay. Just... be careful. Keep your chin up but your head down, you get me?"

"I will. Bye Tobin."

"Bye Mal."

She slowly brought her phone down, staring at it for a moment.

"Uh... breakfast is ready."

Tobin looked up to find Christen watching her. "Yeah. Okay. I uh, I'll be there in a second."

"Is... is everything okay?" Christen asked, taking a step forward. "I mean, you don't have to tell me, obviously. But you seem upset."

She hesitated. Normally she didn't feel it was her place to tell anyone Mal's business, not wanting to violate the younger girl's right to privacy, but all at once she found herself needing to talk.

"No. Uh... do you remember when we first met, I told you about my story covering teenage girls in New York State prisons?"

Christen came and sat next to her one the couch, being careful not to crowd her. "Yeah. You said you got really close to one of the girls, she got busted for solicitation, right?"

"Yeah. Mal. Mallory." She buried her head in her hands, trying to get her emotions under control. "She's a good kid. A smart kid. She just fell in love with the wrong person, got swept up into a bad situation..." She shook her head and looked up at Christen. "Sixteen, with a twenty five year old boyfriend."

Christen sighed. "Never a good combination."

"No. She was a fifteen year old from a little town in New York state, near Albany. From what I can tell she was shy and quiet, subject to a lot of teasing and bullying because she was one of the only people of color in the entire town. And then she meets this guy. He says he's a student at a nearby university, they start dating, one thing leads to another and suddenly she's spending weekends with him at a local casino. Turns out he's not in college, he's a piece of trash gambler, and eventually he gets into some money trouble and he convinces her to help him take care of his debt."

"Oh my god..." Christen said softly.

"Next thing she knows, she's living in Brooklyn, sharing a cramped apartment with him and several of his friends, turning tricks on the street because he says it's what she needs to do if she loves him. One night she gets picked up and it's an undercover cop. She freaked and tried to run away, so she got charged with resisting arrest, too."

"But she was just a kid! That's bullshit."

Tobin gave her a tight smile. "I know. But she had turned sixteen while living with the piece of shit boyfriend, which makes her an adult in New York. Plus there was some stupid previous incident where she got busted at a house party as a freshman in high school, so she got slapped with an 18 month sentence." She gave her head a quick shake. "It's not fair. None of it is. She didn't need to go to jail, she needed someone to help her turn her life around. And..." she shrugged her shoulders in irritation, "Maybe she would have gotten that, if she was a pretty white girl with blonde hair and blue eyes. But she's not. She's a woman of color. So she got pretty much the maximum sentence possible."

She glanced up at Christen. "I'm not stupid. I had read the statistics, listened to people speak out about biased imprisonment rates. But to see it first hand? To walk the halls of a New York state prison and see just how skewed the racial make up of the inmates is? It was enough to make me sick."

"Did something happen?"

Tobin gave a halfhearted shrug. "There's this stupid guard. Just an all around asshole. Some of the things that I heard him say to the inmates while I was there... sexist, yeah, but also racist and homophobic. And when I brought it up with administrators they acted like I was some... liberal, soft hearted idiot. Telling me that I didn't understand, the inmates said way worse things to the guards, which... okay? Even if that's true, the guards are being paid by the state, is it really so unrealistic to expect that they aren't heaping abuse on the people they hold power over?"

"No. It's not an unrealistic thing to ask, but unfortunately that's usually the case."

"Anyway, this one in particular was just a prick. Always getting in barbs, getting the inmates riled up, knowing that if they tried to defend themselves he had the right to discipline them. There was one girl I saw him go at a few times, her name is Adrianna... I guess he said one thing too many, and she lost it. There was a riot and the entire facility was on lockdown. But Mal said that no one has seen Adrianna since. She could be in solitary, in fact she probably is because that's typical punishment for injuring a CO. But Mal's worried... I don't know. She's worried that something else happened. I told her I would try to make some calls but I think we both know that no one's gonna talk to me."

"Like what? That she was hurt?"

"Maybe." Tobin swallowed thickly. "I don't know."

"That sounds really scary."

"Yeah. And, and she is. I mean, she's just a fucking kid, like I said. And she just sounds so... so sad and terrified and alone."

"What about her family?"

Tobin gave a noncommittal shrug. "They... I don't know. I think they're in contact some, but it's also expensive. Collect calls aren't cheap. And they're still mad at her for leaving in the first place-"

"She made a mistake-"

"I know! A stupid mistake that she's already serving literal time for, but apparently that's not enough for her parents. They can't get over it."

"You said she's a woman of color?"

Tobin nodded. "Half white, half black." She kept her eyes on her hands as she picked at her fingernails. "I feel guilty," she admitted quietly.

"Why?"

"Because... because I left! I came in and talked to all of them and recorded their stories. I took their pictures, emailed them to my editors, then left." She gave a shaky, pained laugh as the first tears began to make their way down her cheeks. "How is that fair? They're stuck behind bars while I was free to move on to my next project."

"How would it have helped to stay?"

"I don't know, maybe I could have... I don't know. I don't know what to do."

"What you're doing." Tobin tried to argue back but Christen cut her off. "I'm serious. By you going out and doing your job, telling people about the injustices you've seen, having your pieces published, you shed light on subjects that otherwise people wouldn't know about. Hopefully your piece will spark debate and outrage, helping achieve the changes we so desperately need."

"But I just... left her there. I left them all there."

"No you didn't." Christen scooted closer on the couch, putting an arm around Tobin's shoulders. "You carry their stories with you. You wouldn't be this upset if you didn't."

"I just... I don't want anything to happen to her," Tobin choked out. "I'm scared she's going to be hurt."

"She already has been." Tobin turned her head away from Christen. "Between what you've told me, and the statistics on assaults against female inmates, particularly women of color... Chances are she has been hurt, in one way or another. But she's strong. She'll pull through and get out, and someday she'll put all of this behind her. And you'll be by her side as it happens."

"How can you be so sure?"

Christen shrugged, a hand stroking through Tobin's hair. "Just a matter of having faith, I guess. The world can seem like an awful, unfair, scary place, but we have to push through with the believe that someday it'll be better. That our actions can make it better."

"Yeah." Tobin sniffed and wiped at her cheeks with the back of her hand. "You're right."

"I always am," Christen whispered, earning a soft snort from Tobin as she worked to compose herself. "What do you say we eat breakfast, then you can make the calls you need to, hm?"

"Okay." Christen took her hand and led her to the table, topping off both of their coffee cups as Tobin sat and sent up a quick prayer. She watched out of the corner of her eye as Christen settled into the chair beside her and began to eat. She felt a warmth building in her chest as she watched the other woman, and tried not to dwell on just how right this felt: having breakfast with Christen, feeling stronger with her at her side. Eventually this project would end, and Tobin would have to go back to New Jersey. All she could hope was that she took some of her heart with her when she left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How're we feeling, lads??


	9. Linguistics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christen has a "date" and Tobin struggles with herself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter nine! Yay! I hope you guys like it!

“Hey, so I saw that the Pacific Northwest Ballet is doing A Midsummer Night’s Dream.” Tobin tried to let it slip as casually as she could, but if Christen’s raised eyebrow was any sign, she hadn’t succeeded.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. It was in the newspaper.”

“When is the last time anyone under the age of thirty five read a newspaper?” Christen asked with a giggle.

Tobin rolled her eyes. “Okay, so not the _newspaper _newspaper, but like, online.” She tried to ignore the blush spreading across her cheeks. So she had actually searched for dance related things happening in their area, she didn’t have to admit that. “But I was thinking, well after seeing you in ballet class, you obviously miss it, or at least you seemed like you did-”

“Tobin.”

“Would you want to go? I could see if they have any tickets available for Friday night?” They did, Tobin had already looked into it.

She finally glanced up from her laptop to see Christen smiling softly at her. “Do you even like ballet?”

She shrugged, trying to remain the picture of casual. “It’s nice. And if I see it with you then you can point out the things I’m not getting. Plus, it’s Shakespeare, I remember reading it in school.”

“Well as fun as that sounds, I have to work on Friday.”

“Oh?” She racked her brain, trying to figure out if she had missed something.

Christen pulled her legs up so that she was sitting cross legged on the couch. “One of my clients has been in New York doing business. He wasn’t supposed to be home for another few weeks, but ended up coming home yesterday. So he reached out to me about setting up a date for this Friday.”

“Oh.” Tobin looked back down at her laptop, unsure of what to say.

“But maybe we could go on Saturday? Or next weekend?”

“Sure, sure that sounds great. Or I mean, if you don’t want to, we don’t have to.” Tobin felt dumb for even having brought it up. They weren’t dating. She knew that. The fact that she was staying at her house, sharing chilly morning runs and binging Netflix with her didn’t change the fact that Tobin was here to do a job.

“No, I’d definitely love to go. And it’ll give us a chance to get all dressed up,” she grinned.

Tobin groaned. “You mean ripped jeans aren’t going to cut it?”

Christen laughed. “Not quite.”

“Fine.”

“So… will you tag along on Friday night?”

“What?” Tobin’s heartrate seemed to skyrocket.

“Not for the actual date, obviously. But you can definitely come with when I book the hotel room, watch me get everything set up. If you want, I can even talk to my client, ask if he would be willing to do an interview with you? With anonymity, of course.”

“That would be really dope.” Tobin couldn’t think of any person she wanted to talk to less. It would be bad enough watching Christen prepare everything, but then to actually meet the guy? To look into his eyes and know, with one hundred percent certainty, that he would be having sex with Christen that night?

Tobin didn’t know if she would survive it.

“So… are pretty much all dates alike? I guess we haven’t really talked about escorting much.” _More like you’ve purposefully avoided asking any questions regarding the matter. _

Christen tilted her head to one side. “Mmm… yes and no. It’s pretty much like a normal date, really, but the inverse if that makes sense. Normally, when you’re going on a date with someone, you know that the date is going to start off in a non sexual way, be that dinner or drinks or a movie, whatever, and depending on what everyone is wanting, may or may not end in sex. But as an escort… we’re pretty clear about what everyone is wanting physically. It’s the beforehand that differs. Most guys want to meet up at the hotel room, nothing on the outside. Some, like my date for Friday, prefer to go out for dinner beforehand. It’s all about the experience. They want the GFE.”

Tobin rolled her eyes with a grin, pulling out her phone and pressing record. “Okay, you can’t just start throwing out terminology at me with no preparation.”

Christen began to laugh. “Oh boy. You might want to get your legal pad out for this one.”

“Is there really that much terminology?”

Christen nodded, taking a sip of water. “Oh yeah. You basically need a Rosetta’s Stone.”

Tobin grinned. “Sounds like an SNL skit. But seriously, what’s some of the terms used?”

“Well, one of the most frequently used is when an escort is negotiating with a new client, she’ll sometimes refer to herself as speaking a particular language; the language stands for a service she provides. For instance, if a woman was to say that she speaks French without a translator, she’s willing to perform fellatio without a condom.”

“Ah. A translator represents a condom.”

“Exactly. Greek stands for anal sex, Russian stands for… well, titty fucking.” Both of them began to laugh. “There’s really no polite way to say that, is there?”

“Not really, no.”

“There’s not a language for cunnilingus. Instead it’s referred to DATY: dining at the Y. Because… well, you know.” Christen sat her laptop to the side and leaned back into the corner of the couch, putting both feet up in the air so that her legs took on the shape. “Y.”

Tobin swallowed hard and averted her eyes, trying not to think about how long it had been since she’d eaten that particular meal. “Right… uh, any other languages that come to mind.”

“Japanese. It’s where the client eats soy sauce out of your asshole.”

Tobin’s face wrinkled in disgust and alarm. “Why would anyone want to-” She cut off when she saw Christen biting her lip to stifle her laughter. “Oh my god. You’re kidding.”

“I’m _obviously_ kidding, Tobin.” She dissolved into giggles, wiping at her eyes as Tobin rolled her eyes.

“I don’t know about any of this! For all I know that’s something straight men enjoy, I wouldn’t know!”

“The look on your face.” Christen pulled herself together. “No. No other languages come to mind. The rest is a lot of acronyms: BBBJ for bareback blow job, CBJ for covered blow job, CIM for cum in mouth, COF for cum on face…” Tobin found her head swirling at all of the information Christen was supplying.

“And so all of this is provided before you even meet each other?”

“I mean, yeah. I would say that’s the one area where escorting has a major edge over regular dating. Everyone is on the same page, everyone knows what to expect. You don’t show up to the third date only to find out that they’re super into hair pulling or something while you can’t stand it.”

“Sounds like you’re speaking from personal experience,” Tobin attempted to tease.

“Oh no, I love having my hair pulled,” Christen grinned. Tobin returned her eyes to her laptop, willing her cheeks to stop flushing.

“And you said that your client for Friday, he wants the GFC?”

“GFE: the Girlfriend Experience. Basically, intercourse but with kissing and all of the intimacies. Some girls don’t want that, so they prefer to provide full service, which is intercourse with no kissing. Then of course, the PSE, the porn star experience. That can include kissing or not, but it mainly refers to the just… the ridiculously over the top, X rated, performative sex that you see in mainstream porn. Basically the sex people picture when they think of escorts.”

“I see. And I’m guessing that, as a porn star, you specialize in the PSE?”

Christen snorted, rolling her eyes. “You have obviously never watched any of the videos I’ve been in.”

Tobin felt weirdly defensive. “Well, no but… I didn’t, didn’t want, I mean I knew we would be working together, I didn’t want…”

“Well the companies I work for try to produce videos that are higher quality, more realistic. Nothing that you’re going to be catching on Pornhub. So no, I don’t do the PSE. If someone wants to make me scream they’re going to have to earn it.” She stopped for a moment. “Not that I’m… harsh in bed. I’m not judging them on their abilities. I would say that the majority of my clients are a little on the mature side, and often times they have insecurities and stuff that they’re working through. And that’s how they end up needing my services. So I’m not… unkind, in any way. I’m just not faking anything, I guess is what I’m trying to say. Well,” she rolled her eyes with a small smile. “I am sometimes. A lot of the time. Do you get what I’m trying to say?”

“Yes,” Tobin grinned. “You’re not unreasonably mean to your clients.”

“The first rule of good customer service.” Christen stood up to take her glass to the sink.

“But the guy for Friday, he wants the GFE?”

Christen nodded. “Yeah. He’s actually one of the clients I’ve been seeing the longest. He’s in his forties, and actually very sweet. I hope he agrees to the interview, I think you’ll like him.”

Tobin had no choice but to agree. “Hopefully.”

X

Tobin walked up to the hotel check in desk with Christen, taking in the lobby. “Hi, I just wanted to pick up my key? The reservation is under Press.”

The woman smiled. “It’s been a while since we’ve seen you, Ms. Press.”

Christen shrugged. “Yeah, unfortunately I just go where they send me. I’ve spent the last few months out in Idaho.” She gave an eye roll. “I’m happy to be back Portland, though!”

“And we’re happy to have you.” The woman slid a key card across the counter. “It’s room 312. Do you have a reservation as well, ma’am?” she asked Tobin.

Christen laughed. “No, this is one of my colleagues! I’m just here to drop off my bags before we head out to dinner.”

“I see. Well, I hope you enjoy your stay, Ms. Press. Check out is tomorrow at eleven.”

“Sounds great, thank you so much!”

Christen led them to the elevators, and Tobin held her tongue until they were safely inside the room. “You were awful chummy with her for someone who’s technically breaking the law.”

Christen smiled, sitting on the end of the bed. “Well, this is one of my preferred hotels to do business at, and I figured it was easier to lean into the familiarity rather than ignore it and seem suspicious.” She shrugged. “Instead I came up with another bland job, PR consulting, and the story that my firm sends me out as a freelancer. It explains the semi frequent yet irregular visits.”

“How frequent is semi frequent?”

“Depends. I would say summer is the slowest, what with people being out of town on vacation, and not needing as much ‘stress relief’ as it were. The busiest is December. For both escorting and dancing.”

Tobin furrowed her eyebrows. “Really?”

Christen gave her a sad smile. “Men can take out large withdrawals of cash and tell their wives it was for Christmas presents.”

“Oh.” Tobin let the fact digest. “I’m not sure how I feel about that.”

“Yeah. It does feel a little weird,” Christen agreed.

“So… what’s the game plan? It’s three and you said you’re meeting him for dinner at six?”

She nodded. “Yup. So I’ll go ahead and shower and get ready, that way I’m ready by five thirty. And we’ll eat dinner, then come back here. I’ll come in first, come up to the room, and he’ll follow about ten minutes later. And then we’ll have the evening to ourselves.”

“You make it seem so… domestic. I don’t know what other word to use.”

She chuckled. “Yeah, well it kind of is. Don’t get me wrong, when I was just dancing and escorting, it wasn’t like this. I didn’t get to be quite as choosy with my clients. I had a several dudes that I didn’t like if I’m being quite honest. And I had a lot more one and dones, if that makes sense. But now I make the majority of my money doing films, so I’ve only retained the clients I genuinely enjoy spending time with, who I’ve developed a sort of bond with.”

“That makes sense, I guess.”

“Anyway, I’m gonna go hope in the shower. You can watch TV if you want!” Christen grabbed her toiletries out of her suitcase and shut herself into the bathroom. Tobin turned to look at the big bed in the middle of the room. In just a few hours Christen and her client (who had thankfully not wanted to talk with Tobin) would be here in this room, having sex. Tobin took a deep breath.

_This is her job. _She reminded herself. _You are doing a story on a sex worker. She’s obviously going to be doing sex work. What else did you expect?_

Probably not to develop a huge crush on her subject.

By the time Christen had gotten out of the shower, Tobin had turned the TV to Comedy Central, and the two laughed at a marathon of Impractical Jokers as Christen did her hair and makeup, Tobin occasionally snapping pictures of Christen’s process.

“Well, how do I look?”

Tobin glanced over and sat up straighter. “You look… amazing.” Because Christen did. Tobin had gotten so used to seeing her post run, no makeup as they both hung around the house, that part of her had truly forgotten breathtaking she was when was done up. Her dress was tasteful but left no question as to her amazing body. She had on just enough makeup to enhance her features, and her hair was styled in big, loose curls. She fiddled with the strap of her camera. “Have you ever given one of your clients a heart attack?”

Christen let out a loud, wide mouthed laugh, and Tobin quickly brought her camera up to capture it.

“No. But I’m gonna take that as a compliment.”

“You should. You look incredible.”

“Thanks.” Was Tobin imagining the bashful look that crossed her face? “Well… time to head out, I guess.”

Christen led the way back to the lobby, Tobin trailing behind. She didn’t say anything until they reached the parking lot. “Well, I’m gonna take a Lyft back to your place.”

“Okay! Give the babies hugs and kisses for me.”

Tobin smiled. “Of course.” She was seized by a sudden urge, and reached out to pull Christen in for a hug. “Be careful, yeah? If you… need anything, I’m just a text away.”

“Thanks, Tobs.” Christen pulled back slightly to smile at her. “Text me when you get home, okay?”

“Okay. And… you text me when you’re headed home tonight.”

“Will do.”

“Okay.” They both stared at each other for a long moment. “You’re gonna be late,” Tobin finally whispered.

“Oh! Shit, yeah. Okay, text me.”

Tobin laughed as Christen power walked to her car, her heels clicking against the pavement. She watched her get into her car, waving as she pulled away, ignoring the hollow feeling invading her chest. Finally, she pulled out her phone, calling herself a car. She resigned herself to a night alone in Christen’s house, trying desperately to not think about what was happening at the hotel behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel the slowwwwww b u r n


	10. The Girlfriend Experience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The girls go to the ballet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Sex Worker Wednesday, baby!

Tobin forced herself to take a deep breath as Christen pulled her car into the parking lot of McCaw Hall. She had offered to drive the three hours from Portland to Seattle, if only to have something to do with her hands, but Christen had waved her off, telling her to relax. She'd wanted to make a joke about how Christen was the one who had worked yesterday, but the words got stuck in her throat.

She was doing everything in her power not to think about Christen's date the night before. She'd gone for a run when she got home from the hotel, needing to do something with her body even if it was really too dark to be out on the streets. Once she got back, she'd done sets of push ups and sit ups until her body forced her to give up, collapsing onto the floor of her bedroom and wiping at the sweat on her face. She'd then taken a shower, but once she was under the stream of hot water her mind had suddenly taken a detour into all of the things Christen was probably doing at that very moment, things Tobin wanted desperately to experience first hand. Her hand had found it's way to her nipple before she even realized what was happening, and she made herself get out of the shower immediately.

She was sitting on the couch, editing some pictures on her laptop when Christen came in.

"Hey." Her voice was hoarse from not talking all evening.

"Hey yourself."

"Um... how was your night?"

"It was good! David was still pretty tired from traveling, so we did a lot of talking."

"Nice."

"I'm gonna go shower. Get rid of the cooties," Christen said with a half grin.

"Okay. I'm probably going to head to bed, I just wanted to make sure you got home safe." She started to gather up her laptop and charger before Christen spoke again.

"I checked online and... if you still wanted to go, they have tickets for tomorrow. For the ballet, I mean."

"Oh! Did you want to go?"

"Yeah, yeah if you did. But, if you don't, if you'd rather just stay in that's fine, too." Christen's voice seemed a little quieter than normal.

"I'd love to go."

This earned her a smile. "Great, then I'll buy the tickets."

And that's how Tobin found herself in Christen's passenger seat, jeans swapped out for crisp black dress pants and a dark green button down, trying very hard to act like she wasn't completely enamored by the woman beside her. Christen was wearing a pink velvet dress that was just short enough to show her long legs. Her hair was down and curly, and Tobin wondered if there was anything in the world she could wear and not look stunning.

"Here we are!" Christen's excitement had been building during the drive over and dinner. She was practically shivering with it at this point. She put the car in park and turned off the ignition, giving Tobin a big smile. "This is going to be great."

Tobin just laughed. "I'm worried I'm not going to understand anything that's going on."

"The first act is pretty much the exact story line of the play: Hermia and Lysander are in love, Hermia's best friend Helena is in love with Demetrius, but Demetrius loves Hermia. Hermia and Lysander run away into the forest but are followed by the other two. They run into Oberon, the fairy king who is fighting with the fairy queen, Titania. He has his henchmen, Puck, smear Demetrius with a love potion, but Puck gets the wrong guy, it's a whole thing."

"Okay, but isn't there a donkey involved?"

"Ah yes. They turn a guy named Nick Bottom into a donkey and make Titania fall in love with him as a joke."

"Weird, but okay."

Christen pulled her coat a little closer as they began their walk across the parking lot. "The second act is a giant wedding dance, it's gorgeous- oh!" Christen's heel caught on a crack in the sidewalk and she was suddenly tumbling towards the pavement, saved at the last minute by Tobin grabbing her arm. She helped her back upright.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah! Sorry, I guess I should pay more attention to where I'm walking."

Without thinking, Tobin took Christen's hand pulled it through her arm, so that she could hold onto her for balance. Her brain caught up to her body a moment later and she blushed furiously. "It's no wonder you're tripping, those heels look dangerous," she joked, trying to diminish her actions.

Christen tucked herself further into Tobin's body, ignoring that in said heels she was several inches taller than Tobin. "What can I say? I like the way they make my legs look."

"Your legs always look nice."

_What are you doing? _Tobin's mind screamed at her. _You can't say things like that._

"Oh really?"

Tobin had no choice but to nod. 

"And is that your professional, photographer opinion, or your personal opinion?"

"I mean, as a photographer, you look wonderful on camera. You're a dream to photograph."

"So your personal opinion is that my legs aren't nice?"

Tobin let out a slow breath, not sure how she had gotten herself into this position. "No... my personal opinion is that your legs are more than nice. They're incredible." She winced the moment she said it, sure that she had just crossed a line.

Instead of pulling away, Christen let the hand holding Tobin's bicep slide down her arm, intertwining their fingers. "Well that's good to know." She squeezed her hand. "For the record, I think your legs are pretty incredible as well."

Butterflies erupted in Tobin's stomach, and at that moment they thankfully reached the doors of the venue, and she busied herself with opening the door, letting Christen glide inside with a slightly devious smile.

They picked up their tickets from will call and stopped at one of the concession stands to order glasses of wine. Christen was staring around the lobby, taking in the different architectural features as Tobin worked on calming the fuck down. So what if Christen apparently liked her legs? That didn't mean anything. She worked with adult film stars and exotic dancers, for crying out loud, she spent her days surrounded by people with incredible bodies, physiques that Tobin couldn't dream of holding a candle to. Christen was just being nice, she didn't want Tobin to feel weird about what she had said. She followed dutifully as Christen led them to their seats.

"So have you ever seen A Midsummer Night's Dream before?"

Christen shook her head. "Not in person. I've seen some clips online from when New York City Ballet did it, and I saw the stage performance while I was at Stanford."

"I see. Well, I'm glad I picked a production you were interested in."

"Picked? I thought you just saw it advertised online?"

Tobin glanced up from her program, mouth open as she tried to think of how to get her foot out of her mouth. Christen was giving her a knowing smirk, her eyebrow quirked upwards, but thankfully Tobin was saved at that moment by the lights dimming. She chastised herself as the cell phone announcement was played, but as the overture began, Christen's hand found it's way into hers. She looked down at their joined hands, then up at Christen. Her smirk had morphed into a soft smile, the one that made her eyes shine that much brighter. Tobin bit her lip and ran her thumb lightly over Christen's, not missing the way it made her squeeze back. Then the curtain lifted and they both turned to look at the stage.

The next day on the phone Ali would ask about the ballet, wanting to know how Tobin had liked it, but she wouldn't have an answer. Sure, she had been in awe of the feats of athleticism that were happening on the stage, the beautiful costumes, the precise movements. But every few minutes she would find herself looking sideways at Christen, watching as she watched the ballet, her eyes trained on the performance. The lights from the stage illuminated her face, giving her an almost ethereal appearance. Tobin had never wanted to lean over and kiss someone so much in her life, but she refrained, making herself content to just take her in. 

On the drive back to Portland, Christen had gushed about the ballet, telling Tobin all of her favorite parts. They then lapsed into a comfortable silence, neither speaking until they were nearly thirty minutes outside of Portland.

"How did you know you wanted to be a photographer?"

Christen's voice, though soft, startled Tobin a bit from her thoughts. "Uh... I was a really nostalgic kid. When my family would go out when I was a little, I was always nervous that I wouldn't remember what we did. I was so preoccupied with the idea of remembering the fun we were having that I wouldn't end up actually having fun. So one year for Christmas when I was eight, they got me one of those Barbie Polaroid cameras, and I was instantly obsessed. Every cent of my allowance and babysitting money was spent on film and getting the pictures developed. I taped them up to every bit of my walls that I could reach."

"That's so cute," Christen cooed. 

"My mom definitely didn't think so, I ruined the paint on the walls," Tobin laughed.

"I can't picture you with anything Barbie, though."

"Yeah... My sisters already had a million by the time I came along. I would play with them a little bit, but was way more interested in being outside. But I think part of me felt like I 'should' like barbies, y'know? Since I was a girl." She stared out the front windshield for a long moment. "So I didn't tell my parents I didn't like Barbies, I just sucked it up."

"Yeah." Christen sighed. "I definitely understand that. The whole idea of quieting yourself, of the things you love and want, in the name of your parents being happy. When did you decide on combining photography and journalism?"

"Well... like I said, I took pictures of literally everything. And at first, the pictures just spoke for themselves. I felt like it took away from their power to write on them, or give some sort of explanation. I just wanted them to be able to stand in their own power, as a representation of what I was seeing, what I was feeling. But then when I was in high school, I had a... best friend."

"A _best _friend?" Christen grinned.

Tobin nodded. "We spent every moment together. We were on the soccer team together, and every moment that wasn't spent in class or on the pitch, we were with each other. I was, oh god, I was so in love with her." Tobin smiled at the thought, getting caught up in the memory. "The only problem was that she had a boyfriend."

"Oof."

"Oof indeed. And they were together for like two years. But that didn't stop us from... y'know. Exploring our _friendship,_ as it were."

"Double oof."

"Yeah. And I tried to convince myself that I was fine, we were just friends, this was all normal, I was normal. And then... one day her mom caught us."

"What?!"

Tobin grimaced and nodded. "Yup. We were in her room, we had been working on homework, but when her mom came up to ask if I was staying for dinner she found us making out on her bed with my hand up her daughter's shirt." She let out a snort. "Of course this was New Jersey, and she looked like a picture perfect, All-American girl with her quarterback boyfriend, and I looked like... well, a lot like how I look now: snapbacks, Vans, had never so much as kissed a boy. And she lost it. Accused me of confusing her daughter, corrupting her. Sent me home. When I got home I found my mom on the phone, getting an earful. And that's pretty much the story of how I got outed to my parents."

"Holy shit. That's intense."

"Yeah. It wasn't too bad, though. I mean, her mom was pissed, but she also didn't want anyone to find out that her daughter had any interest in girls, so she wasn't exactly telling anyone, and while she didn't really want us hanging out, there was nothing she could do. And my parents were completely accepting. But what I hated was... I had all of these pictures of us together. We spent so much time together, it was just natural. But as I started to look back on all of them, I started to realize that without words, without my commentary, people could take my photos and make them be whatever they wanted. Her mom could take the picture of us and put it next to the picture of her and the boyfriend, fulfilling the narrative she wanted to exist. And that's not fair."

"Yeah. Your friend was obviously was really special to you. Do you know what she's up to now?"

Tobin gave a quiet laugh. "Um... yes, actually. She's living with my best friend, they've been dating for nearly six years."

Christen burst out laughing. "Excuse me?"

Tobin chuckled. "Yeah. Our senior year of college, Ali reached out to me while I was studying journalism at UNC. She said that she had fully came into her bisexuality and apologized for ever putting me in that situation. I assured her that there were no hard feelings and invited her to North Carolina for spring break. The plan was she was going to kick it on our couch but then she ended up spending most of the week in Ashlyn's bed."

"Isn't that... weird, though? This person that you cared for so intensely, dating your best friend?"

"I get what you mean, but no. Ali and I would have never worked together, we're much better off as friends. We both just happened to be in a place where we were exploring, and I definitely don't regret that. But she and Ashlyn are honestly so happy together. I could never be upset over that."

"I feel like that's a very mature way to look at it."

Tobin rolled her eyes with a grin. "I try my best."

"What does her mom have to say about all of this?"

"Y'know... she came a long way. Especially because Ali's older brother also came out while he was in college. So she was pretty much forced to get on board or give up both of her kids. So she's now behind them one hundred percent. So that's great. Still not the biggest fan of mine weirdly enough. Guess she still feels like I'm the one who turned Ali gay." She laughed again at the absurdity. "I guess once you have a taste of this, it changes your life," she joked. Christen didn't laugh, and she glanced over to see that she was chewing hard on her lip. "Anyways... yeah. that's why I decided to be a photojournalist." Neither one of them said anything for the last few minutes they were in the car, Tobin panicking about Christen's silence. 

When they walked into the townhouse, Tobin immediately walked to the backdoor and let the dogs in, topping off their water dish at the kitchen sink. She came back into the living room to find Christen standing at the foot of the stairs, high heels tossed off unceremoniously, her face bearing an unreadable look. "Well... I'm gonna head to bed, I guess. But thanks for going to the ballet with me. I hope you enjoyed it." She walked up the stairs, cursing herself for somehow ruining whatever had been brewing between them.

"Tobin.

She turned around at the door to her room, finding Christen right behind her. "Yeah?"

Christen stared into her eyes for a moment, as if searching for something, then without a word she leaned forward and pressed her lips to Tobin's.

She couldn't believe that this was really happening. Her lips were just as soft as Tobin had assumed, and she could smell her shampoo as she lifted her hands to tangle them in her log, brown locks, urging her closer. After several moments, Christen pulled back, allowing Tobin to try and remember how to breathe.

"I more than enjoyed it, Tobs. I had a great time. I always do with you." She leaned in and whispered in her ear. "Maybe for our next date, we'll do something that you like." She pressed a kiss to her cheek. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Chris." She stayed rooted to the spot for several moments, watching as Christen crossed the hallway and slipped through her door. She finally forced herself to move into her room, sitting on the side of her bed as if in a daze. 

Christen had kissed her. She'd talked about their next date, implying that tonight had been their first. Tobin couldn't stop the wide grin slowly spreading across her face, and flopped backwards, completely overwhelmed.

If only every day could end like this one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!!! What do we think??
> 
> Also, sorry for including all the stuff about Midsummer, I couldn't resist haha. When I'm not writing fanfic and waiting tables, I'm actually an actress. My first professional show was playing Hermia in MND, so it holds a special place in my heart


	11. Sleep with Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christen gets visitors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!!!!! I meant to have this posted yesterday, but then I got pulled in to work a double. I was on the floor for ten hours and burned over 3000 calories. I'm a dead person.

When Tobin woke up the next morning, she stared at the ceiling, still in shock from the night before.

Christen had kissed her.

She took a deep breath, feeling the joy and excitement spreading through every cell of her body/.

Christen had kissed her.

This wasn’t some one sided crush, Christen had feelings for her too.

And just like that, anxiety flooded in.

Christen had kissed her.

Christen. Her subject. A person she one hundred percent, absolutely should not be kissing.

She gave a low groan, bringing a hand up to cover her eyes.

What the fuck had she been thinking?

She eventually pulled herself from bed, brushing her teeth even though she was having a hard time swallowing around the lump in her throat. Part of her desperately tried to come up with a reason why she could just stay in her bedroom forever, never having to face Christen or the huge mess she had made of her professional life, but she couldn’t ignore the grumbling of her stomach forever.

When she reached the kitchen, Christen was pacing around, talking to someone on the phone. She gave Tobin a bright grin and pointed to the full coffee pot.

“Yeah, no that sounds amazing.” Tobin filled a mug, listening to Christen’s side of the conversation. “It’s been way too long… I know.” Christen tapped her fingernails on the tabletop as she listened. “No, I won’t be too busy! I mean, I don’t have my schedule in front of me, but even if I do have something, I’ll reschedule. No, don’t even mention it! Okay. Okay, yeah, call me when your plane lands. Love you too, see you tomorrow!” Christen hung up the phone and gave a short squeal before leaning down and pecking Tobin on the cheek. “Hi. Sorry about that.”

“No worries, what’s going on?”

“My sisters are coming up to visit!” Christen gushed. “My older sister, Tyler, she has some work thing in Vancouver, so she and Channing are going to come and stay with me! They get in tomorrow.”

“That’s awesome! Um, I can get a hotel room for while they’re here, that way you have both of your guest rooms.”

“What? No way. I’ll sleep on the couch and one of them can take my bed.”

Tobin rolled her eyes with a small smile. “Christen, you’re not sleeping on the couch in your own house. What if I stay on the couch?”

“Nope,” Christen replied, popping the p. “Not gonna happen. I’ll stay on the couch. Oh my god, I can’t wait to see them!”

“How long has it been?”

Christen stopped to think. “I guess… six months? I didn’t go home for Thanksgiving or Christmas.”

“Why not?”

She sighed before giving Tobin a half hearted grin. “I’m not a huge fan of Thanksgiving. Just… the whole thing rubs me wrong. Having a day where we eat this huge meal and talk about how grateful we are for everything in our lives, then the next day people are killing each other over half priced cashmere sweaters? It’s gross. Plus the whole Thanksgiving story is so whitewashed. Like, ‘Oh! The Indians shared their food with the pilgrims and saved them from starvation.’ Okay, but what about the murder and genocide that followed?”

Tobin smirked. “Exactly what your cousins want to hear about over the pumpkin pie.”

“Exactly,” Christen laughed. “So I haven’t gone home for Thanksgiving in years. Probably since I was in college.”

“What about Christmas?”

A slightly pained expression flitted across her face. “It’s… it’s not the same with my mom gone. And I know that’s not a good reason, that if anything I should take whatever time I can get with my family while I can. Because we’ve all learned the hard way that our time here on earth is shorter than we think.” She chewed on her lip for a moment, leaning down to scratch Morena’s head. “But I just couldn’t bring myself to go down. So I said I was too busy with work.”

“But you’re going to see them tomorrow,” Tobin reaffirmed, wanting to cheer her up.

“Yeah! It’s been a while since the three of us had time to really hang out.”

“I think that’s just a part of growing up and becoming adults, unfortunately. I love my siblings but it’s so hard to align everyone’s schedules and plan a trip somewhere.”

“I guess…” Christen didn’t look quite convinced. “Anyway,” she said, giving her head a shake. “I need to get the house ready for them! So today we’re going to clean the house from top to bottom.”

Tobin couldn’t help but laugh. “’We?!’ How did I get roped into this?”

Christen stood from her chair and bent so that her lips were at Tobin’s ear. “I bet I can make it worth your while.” Her hot breath tickled Tobin’s skin, making her shiver, and Christen giggled. She straightened up and sashayed out of the kitchen, but not before calling, “Strip your bed so I can wash your sheets!” over her shoulder.

X

“Tyler! Chan!” Christen was practically bouncing up and down as her sisters made their way out of the airport. She hurried forward and threw her arms around them as Tobin leaned against the car. She didn’t want to intrude on this moment.

“How was your flight?”

“It was good!” One of them said. “A little bumpy on take off, but overall it wasn’t bad.”

“Good, good!” Christen led them back to her car. “This is Tobin, she’s staying with me for a bit. Tobs, this is Channing and Tyler.”

Tobin smiled and shook their hands. Something about Christen’s statement wasn’t sitting quite right with her, but she couldn’t figure out what it was.

_What, were you hoping she would introduce you as her girlfriend? A person she’s gone on one date with? Pull it together. _She pushed it from her mind as they all loaded into Christen’s car. She listened as the three sisters began to chat animatedly, overlapping and cutting each other off in the way that only siblings could. Once they got to the townhouse, Tobin helped them carry in their bags.

“Oh my god, show me the ring! This is my first time seeing you in person since Daniel proposed!” Tyler stuck out her hand and the three of them gushed over how perfect it was, how it complimented her hands perfectly.

“We’re still deciding on a wedding date, but we were thinking maybe something in late September, early October.”

“I can’t wait.” Christen straightened up and pointed to the stairs. “Okay, Tyler I figured you would stay in my room, Channing you can have the other guest room, and I’ll sleep down here.”

“Chris I’m not kicking you out of your own bed!”

“It’s really fine-”

“Why don’t I just share a bed with Chan, and you can keep your bed?”

“Well, my bed is a queen, so if anyone’s going to share a bed, you and I can share that one.”

“No, really, it’s okay,” Tyler insisted. “I’ll sleep with Channing.”

“Just sleep with me-”

“I don’t want to sleep in your bed,” Tyler finally admitted, her voice a little too loud for how close they were all standing.

“Oh.”

“It’s just… I don’t have a problem sharing a bed with you or Chan, but I don’t want to sleep in your bed. I’m sorry, but I just don’t.”

“But, why…” Christen trailed off as something clicked in her brain. “Tyler. No one sleeps in my bed except for me. It’s not… This is my home.”

“I was kind of under the impression that you work from home.”

“Not like that,” Christen muttered. “I don’t… fine. Whatever. We’ll figure out sleeping arrangements later.”

“Chris, don’t get mad, surely you can understand-“

“I’m gonna let the dogs in,” Christen said, cutting her sister off. “They’re going to be so happy to see you guys.”

She walked to the back door and Tobin watched as Tyler and Channing exchanged a look. Khaleesi and Morena came bounding in, and soon all three sisters were cooing over them, giving them pets and kisses. Tobin caught Christen by the elbow.

“Hey, I think I’m going to go out to a coffee shop and get some work done.”

“What? No, stay.”

“You guys need time to hang out, I don’t want to get in the way of that.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” She gave her a grin. “But I’ll be home in time for dinner?”

Christen smiled back. “Okay. But you can seriously stay if you want.”

“Nah. Have fun with your sisters. I’ll be back around six.”

X

When Tobin arrived back home, all traces of the earlier squabble were gone. The three Press sisters were in the kitchen, talking and laughing as they moved around each other, putting the meal together.

“Something sure smells good,” Tobin called as she toed her shoes off.

“Homemade lasagna with garlic bread and bacon wrapped asparagus bundles,” Channing explained, and Tobin gave a low groan as her mouth began to water.

“Sounds delicious. Need any help?”

Tyler smiled at her. “We have everything covered. Everything should be ready in about five minutes. You could set the table if you want?”

“Great.” Tobin set out the plates and silverware and several minutes later they were all sitting down to eat.

“Everything tastes amazing, you guys.”

“Thanks, Tobin.” Tyler took a sip of her wine. “So tell us more about yourself, _someone _was being annoyingly close-lipped earlier,” she said with a teasing glance at Christen who merely rolled her eyes.

“Oh! Um… well what do you want to know?”

“Where are you from?”

“You give off a very So-Cal vibe,” Channing declared, giving Tobin the hang loose gesture.

“Ah, well I’m actually from New Jersey, but I do have a soft spot in my heart for Cali. I’ve never lived there, though. I applied to UCLA but ended up at UNC on a soccer scholarship.”

“Really? That’s super cool. Do you still play?”

“Here and there, but I messed up my ankle at the end of senior year, so nothing too serious. Mostly just pick up games with my friends.”

“I didn’t know that,” Christen said softly.

Tobin shrugged. “Yeah, well… it was a long time ago.”

“I played at Villanova,” Channing supplied, and the two began to discuss their respective experiences.

“So what do you do now if you’re not playing soccer?” Tyler asked.

“I’m a photojournalist.”

“Really?”

“She’s amazing,” Christen praised. “She recently did an expose on teen girls in the New York State prison system, the photos she’s shown me are incredible. It feels like you’re right there.”

“Is that what you’re working on right now?” Tyler asked.

Tobin chanced a glance at Christen, who was suddenly very interested in the food on her plate.

“Um… no. I’ve moved on to my next project.”

“What is it?”

“It’s… it’s um…” Tobin finally realized what had seemed off when Christen had introduced her at the airport. With everyone else in her life that she had introduced her to, she had referred to her as ‘the journalist she had told them about’ or ‘the photographer she was working with.’ That’s not what she had said earlier today, because she hadn’t told her sisters that she was doing this project.

“It’s me. She’s doing a project on my work and my activism,” Christen finally said.

The table was suddenly very quiet.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I understand,” Tyler finally said.

“I… I met a girl on my last project who was busted for solicitation. It led to me researching more about sex work, and sex worker rights activists, and that’s how I got in touch with Christen.” Tobin swallowed, strangely nervous. “She was gracious enough to agree to let me come out and document her life.”

“Her life?” Channing asked.

“You know… as a sex worker.”

Tyler turned to look at Christen. “Are you serious?”

Christen carefully finished chewing the food in her mouth before responding. “She’s been documenting the day to day aspects of my life. I think it will be really powerful because it shows just how normal my life is, how I’m a person just like everyone else.”

“But you’re not!” Tyler’s voice was loud. “Have you lost your fucking mind? You’re doing a documentary about your life as a porn star and an escort?”

“It’s not a documentary, it’s going to be a magazine feature-”

“Oh, because that’s the thing I actually had a problem with, Chris,” Tyler spat. She crossed her arms across her chest. “You’re going to lose what little bit of anonymity you have! Everyone is going to know your real name. You’re never going to be able to apply for a real job-”

“I have a real job!” Christen cut in. “Just because I’m not going into an office everyday doesn’t mean that I don’t have a job, I work hard.”

“Oh yeah, it must be really hard work, laying on your back all day,” Tyler quipped back. “What if you get married and have kids someday, Chris? Are you going to be comfortable dropping them off at preschool, knowing that the other parents know about your dirty little secret?”

“It’s not dirty-“

“Well it’s not exactly the most respectable profession, is it?”

Channing tried a different approach. “Chris, I don’t think you’re really thinking about this. What about Dad? Once your real name is out there, it’s just a matter of a little googling before someone can figure out exactly who you’re the daughter of.”

“Have you ever though that maybe I’m tired of hiding?” Christen asked.

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have dropped out of college to be a fucking stripper, Chris!” Tyler pushed her chair back from the table and began to pace around the kitchen. “I mean, you act like we’re the crazy ones, for having reservations about you _literally _whoring yourself out. And don’t give me that bullshit about your body, your choice, blah blah. You’re letting men use you for sex, all in the name of what? Sticking it to the patriarchy? Sticking it to Dad? I think he got the fucking message!”

Now Christen was on her feet too. “This has nothing to do with Dad!”

Tyler scoffed. “Of course it does. You wanted so badly to rebel against all of the plans Dad had for his picture-perfect little Christen that you picked the career path that would hurt him the most.”

“I picked the career path that would make me happy-”

“Really? Are you really happy, Chris? Take a look around. You’ve alienated yourself from our entire family. You rarely talk to Dad. You missed the last few months of Mom’s life-”

“Tyler-” Channing tried to cut in, but her older sister pushed forward.

“No, I’m tired of tiptoeing around it. You did, Chris. You missed out on spending time with her and you’ll never get that time back. You live here, in this house that you’re so proud of owning, but you’re alone. Vero left because let’s face it, most people don’t want a significant other who fucks other people for money. You have ruined your life, all in the name of… what? Feminism? Because I sill manage to be a feminist while keeping my clothes on and my legs closed.”

“Stop it,” Christen said, her voice cracking with how close she was to tears.

“I’m… fuck, I don’t even know who you are anymore, Christen. This is going too far. This is going to truly destroy any chance you have of getting out, and you’re going to take down our family while you’re at it. Do you really hate us that much?”

“This has nothing to do with you-”

“Yes it does!” Tyler yelled. “Can’t you see that everything you do affects us? You don’t live in a vacuum, Christen! This is stupid and selfish, and you know it. That’s why you didn’t tell us you were doing it.”

“I didn’t tell you because I knew you were going to freak out.”

“Yeah, and rightfully so. What, did you think that if you told us in front of Tobin that we would just keep our mouths shut and nod prettily? Well, my politeness can only extend so far. I love you, but this is crossing the line. It’s not… it’s not fair that you’re doing this to us. You can say all you want about how it’s your life, your body, but it’s our family, our name. You… God. I can’t believe you.” She turned to Tobin. “It was very nice to meet you, and I’m sure you really are great at what you do, but I won’t be made a part of this. If I am anywhere in this magazine piece you’re writing, you’ll be hearing from my lawyer, because I’m not giving any sort of consent for this.”

“Tyler, please-”

“Christen, I’m getting married. Can you even imagine… how embarrassing it is to know that while you’re standing beside me at the church that there are probably going to be men in the crowd that know exactly what you look like while you’re getting fucked?”

“Well then maybe I shouldn’t come.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t.” The two stared at each other, both realizing what had just been said.

“You… you don’t want me to be your bridesmaid?”

“I don’t know. I need to think about it. This is all… God, Chris. I love you so much. We all do. This wouldn’t upset us so much if we didn’t care about you.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“That you’re going to stop. That you’re going to get out and live a normal life. That you know that you are worth more than this, that you can do better than this.”

“It’s not… I can’t say that, because this is what I do, and as crazy as it might seem to you, I enjoy it. I’m good at it.”

“You’re good at a lot of things.”

“It’s not the same.”

Tyler took a deep breath, wiping at the stray tears on her cheeks. “I think… I should go.”

“What? No,” Christened argued.

“Yes. I… I thought it would maybe be different, if it was the three of us, or maybe since we were coming to you, but… I just don’t know how to do this. I can’t do this.”

Christen sniffed back tears. “Tyler. You’re my big sister.”

“I know. But you’re not listening to what I’m saying.”

“You’re not listening to me-”

“Chris.” Tyler turned to Channing who had been sitting miserably next to Tobin, watching the two of them fight. “I’m getting a hotel. Are you going to stay here?”

“Tyler, I think we all need to take a second-”

“No, Channing. I’m not staying here. Are you going to spend the night here or come with me to the hotel?”

“You don’t have to get a hotel, you can stay with me-”

“No, I can’t.” Tyler turned and started up the stairs. Channing slowly stood up.

“Chris, she’s just upset-”

“And I’m not?” Christen spat.

She sighed. “I’m… I’m gonna go with her. Just so she’s not alone. But let’s get lunch or dinner tomorrow, once you’ve both calmed down, we can talk about this.”

“She just uninvited me from her wedding, Channing.”

The youngest sister faltered, unsure of what to say. “Everyone just needs to calm down.” She followed Tyler up the stairs to retrieve her suitcase.

Tobin, who hadn’t moved from her seat at the table, finally came to her feet. “Are you okay?” She whispered.

Christen shook her head. “I don’t know why I thought this would go any differently.” Tobin started to reply but cut off when Tyler and Channing came back downstairs. Christen wiped under her eyes. “Where do you want me to drive you?”

“I can get a car.”

“No. Tyler, please, let me take you.”

“I already called it.”

“Oh.” No one said anything, instead just standing in tense silence for several minutes.

Tyler’s phone vibrated. “The car’s here.” She went to the front door as Channing gave Christen a hug but turned around at the last second. She wrapped her arms around Christen, pressing her face into her hair. Christen returned the hug, holding her tightly. “You know I love you, right?”

“I love you, too.”

Tyler pulled away with a sniff, then left, Channing following behind her.

Tobin watched wordlessly from the kitchen, not moving until she saw Christen’s shoulders begin to shake. She stepped forward and placed her hand on her back.

“Chris?”

Christen turned around, tears streaming down her face, and threw herself into Tobin’s arms. She could do nothing but hold her as she began to sob, stroking her hair and back. She wished she could take some of this pain away, but she didn’t know how.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what did we think??
> 
> *I may not get a chapter posted this Wednesday as I'm going to Baltimore to visit a friend, but if I can, I will!


	12. From the Outside In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christen is recognized by someone she doesn't expect and Tobin receives a phone call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A day late but it's HERE! Baltimore is so incredibly cold you guys. 
> 
> *This chapter has a trigger warning for mention of sexual assault*

Tobin opened her eyes to find her sight obstructed by Christen’s dark curls. She resisted fidgeting as she remembered the night before, Christen and Tyler fighting, her sisters leaving, Christen sobbing for what seemed like a lifetime before she’d maneuvered them upstairs into Christen’s bed. It was past midnight when Christen finally fell asleep, but Tobin had remained awake for a few more hours, talking in circles in her head as she held the other woman close.

She tightened her arm around Christen’s waist, wishing the two of them could remain here forever, not having to face anyone but each other. But the universe had other plans, she accepted as her phone began to vibrate behind her on the nightstand. She begrudgingly got up so she could answer it, stepping outside of the bedroom when she read her editor’s name on the screen.

“Hello?”

“Hi Tobin. It’s been a bit since we’ve chatted.”

Tobin bit back a sigh at the woman’s clipped voice, making her way downstairs. “I guess it has been a minute. Sorry, Jill.”

“No worries, just wanted to check in on everything.”

“It’s… good.”

“Good?”

“Yeah. I’m getting lots of material.”

“I would love to look at some of it.”

Tobin let the dogs out into the yard. “I’m still getting the written piece sorted out.”

“That’s fine. If nothing else, send along some of the photos and your general outline.”

She rubbed at the back of her neck. “Yeah, you’ll get ‘em.”

Jill sighed. “Tobin…”

“What?” Her voice came out a little sharper than she intended.

“I think we both know that I’ve had some reservations about this project from the beginning. It’s not that what you’re covering isn’t… interesting, and worth thinking about, but you also have to remember that it’s a matter of being able to sell the material to the American public, it has to be palatable. Being shocking and revolutionary can only do so much-”

“There’s nothing revolutionary about sex work,” Tobin argued. “It’s called the oldest profession for a reason. And I don’t think it’s so shocking to actually portray the women doing sex work as people rather than whores and harlots, as untouchables. They’re working, just like you and me, and I don’t think-”

“Tobin. Toby.” Tobin stopped and took a deep breath. “Look, I gave you the green light. But I don’t think it’s asking too much, as your editor, the person who sells your work and puts money in your bank account, to ask to check in on your progress.”

She rubbed at her eyes, knowing that Jill was right. She had never been so resistant to turn in rough work on any other project, why was she dragging her feet on this? Was it because she wanted to make sure she was getting everything right, or was it because she had grown so close with her subject?

“I’ll send you an email later today with some of my progress so far.”

“Thank you. I’m not asking for a finished project already, I just would like to see some progress. Anyway, what’s the weather doing there? New York is expecting another snowstorm…”

By the time Christen blearily made her way downstairs, Tobin had coffee made and was typing away at her laptop. “Hey,” she whispered hoarsely.

“Morning.” Tobin poured her a cup of coffee and placed it on the table. “How are you feeling?”

“Like garbage,” she replied, sitting in the chair and pulling up one of her legs so that her chin was propped on her knee. “Thank you for sleeping with me last night. I just… I needed-”

“Someone. I get it.” Tobin sat across from her. “Have you talked to either of your sisters?”

She shook her head, sniffing. “No. Um… Channing texted me while I was asleep. Tyler’s going to her work thing, and then they decided to just go ahead and head home tonight. They already changed their flights.”

“I’m really sorry, Chris.”

She shook her head. “It’s fine. I’m just sorry that you had to watch us go full Press sister meltdown. I told you that we argue, but it’s not usually that bad.”

“Don’t apologize. I mean… Especially since Tyler was the one doing the majority of the yelling.”

Christen shrugged then looked up at Tobin. “Sometimes… I wonder if there’s some truth to what she’s saying.”

Tobin leaned forward. “What do you mean?”

“Well, she’s right that I didn’t tell them about the project because I knew she would be upset. Appearances… I mean, they’re a big thing in out family. And Tyler’s cut from the same cloth as our dad when it comes to protecting the family name. But… I thought if I told her in person… I thought I would have a better chance to actually talk to her, explain why I’m doing this. But what I really meant was… it’s not the first time she’s suggested I went into sex work to get back at my dad.”

“And… how do you feel about that?”

“I… I don’t know!” She ran a hand through her hair, her face twisting in frustration. “It’s not as if he lowered my allowance so out of retaliation I decided to be in pornos, nothing is ever that linear. But… I don’t know. Maybe I did lean into dancing because I was upset with him. I was just… My entire life… He’s not a bad dad.” She glanced over at Tobin, then looked away. “He and my mom were good parents. He loves us. But he was also really strict, making decisions for us about our lives, our futures. And… that wasn’t fair! I had no interest in being a lawyer. But he just… put it there, and I followed instructions. And it got to the point where… I just couldn’t follow anymore. Nothing felt right, everything felt fake, I didn’t know who I was.”

She took a shaky breath. “Stripping was one of the first things I ever chose for myself. Even my summer job in high school, I worked at the country club where we were members. He talked to the right people, and then I had a job. No one really asked if I wanted to. I was just expected to show up. And I know… I know that that’s such privileged bullshit. Like really? I’m complaining about being given a job?”

“But if it’s something you hated-”

“I didn’t hate it. Not the way I ended up hating pre-law. But I just… Sometimes I look back and it feels like I was a doll. This… thing that my parents made and then my dad groomed me exactly how he wanted me to be and then held me up for everyone to admire.” She sighed deeply, rubbing at her forehead. “Maybe Tyler’s right. Maybe I did do this to get back at him.”

“Is there another job you would rather be doing?”

She looked into Tobin’s eyes. “Not… Not really. I… I like what I do. I’m good at it. Does that make me a fucked up person?”

“No. Not at all.”

She let out a small, derisive laugh. “There’s this whole stereotype in the sex work industry, that if you’re a stripper or a pro or a porn star, that you must have had this horrible childhood, that you were horrifically abused by your father, that it’s somehow your parents’ faults that you’re doing what you’re doing. And we do what we can to refute it, because it’s overwhelmingly false. But… what if she’s right?”

“I don’t think she is.” Christen shrugged, so Tobin pressed on. “I’m serious. I mean, maybe… maybe the first job, the first club, maybe that was partially motivated by spite. And if that’s the case, is that necessarily a bad thing? A lot of people are motivated by spite. Technically, I was motivated to explore journalism as a way to buck the narrative of the people around me. No one’s holding that against me. But if that’s all it was, I don’t think you would have gotten to this point. You wouldn’t be such a fierce activist.”

“I hope that’s true.” Christen stared out the kitchen window for a moment before turning back to Tobin with a smile. “I’m sorry, I’m just, just a wreck this morning. I’m used to fighting with Tyler, but not like that.”

“Don’t apologize for showing emotion, Chris. I could never hold that against you.” She watched as the corners of Christen’s mouth turned upwards, gifting her with a slight smile. She fought the urge to reach across the table and take her hand, instead taking a drink from her mug. “So what do you want to do today?” she asked, changing the subject.

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I had been planning on hanging out with Channing while Tyler was at work, then all of us going out for a big dinner but…”

“Well let’s get out of the house today. We could… what do you say we eat a late breakfast, then take the puppies out to a dog park? Then we could… I don’t know, we can go to dinner, or we could see a movie. Let’s do something.”

It was Christen who reached across the table, squeezing Tobin’s hand in hers. “That sounds really good actually.”

X

“Khaleesi! Khaleesi, bring it back!” Christen called with a laugh. She and Tobin watched as instead she took the stick over to a nearby poodle, Morena following along dutifully. “Always trying to make a new friend,” Christen said.

“She gets that from her mom,” Tobin teased.

“Hey, you’re… Christen, right?” They both turned to see a middle-aged man standing several feet away.

“Yes?” she asked.

“I’m Tom Mariner, I live a few blocks down from you. I see you out on runs.” He stuck out his hand with a grin. “Sorry, I wasn’t meaning to be a creeper, I think we met at the barbeque last summer, I just wasn’t sure if I was getting you confused with someone else. But then I heard Khaleesi and figured you had to be the same person.”

Christen laughed and shook his hand. “No worries. You… you’re in the house with tulips out front, right? With the two little boys?”

His face lit up. “That’s me! Yeah, Carter is seven and Liam is three.” He glanced at Tobin and Christen turned.

“Sorry, this is my friend Tobin. She’s in town doing business so she’s staying with me for a while.”

“Nice to meet you, Tobin.” She shook his hand.

“So are your boys ready for spring break?”

“Carter definitely is, school’s not really his thing.”

They all laughed. “Y’know what, fair enough,” Tobin smiled.

Tom looked back at Christen and tilted his head to the side. “I just… I feel like I’ve seen you somewhere.”

“I mean I do run by your house most mornings,” she laughed, but Tobin could feel the touch of nervousness in the way she looked away from Tom under the guise of checking on the dogs.

“No, I know, it just… you just seem very familiar.”

“I guess I just have one of those faces,” Christen quipped.

“I guess- wait.” Tobin watched as something clicked in his eyes. He looked from Christen to her, then back again. His eyes then racked up and down Christen’s body, seemingly of their own volition. “You… You’re uh…” He couldn’t seem to figure out what he wanted to say.

“Your neighbor,” Christen said through clenched teeth.

“I’ve…” He dropped his voice and took a step closer. “I’ve watched you in… things.” His face flushed. “You’re… wonderful. So talented, I mean.”

“Uh… thank you,” Christen responded.

“Not to say, I mean… you’re just great. You look great.”

“Tom? What are you- Oh hi, Christen! How are you?” A blonde woman about Tom’s age had walked up to his shoulder, smiling when she saw who he was talking to.

“I’m great, Nina, how are you?” Tobin watched as Tom scrambled to put a normal look on his face while Christen began to talk with what would appear to be his wife.

“Good, good. I have to tell you, anytime you walk by the house with your dogs, Liam goes crazy! He presses up against our front window, pointing, it’s the cutest thing. I’ll have to get a video next time, that way you can see.”

“Oh gosh! Well, you should bring him down sometime, the girls would love to play with him.”

“Really? I’d hate to be a bother.”

“It’s not a bother, not at all! The puppies are always happy to have another person to give kisses to.”

“Well, we may just have to take you up on that! Both of the boys love dogs, but Tom’s allergic- Tom? Are you okay?”

Tom gave his head a slight shake, tearing his eyes away from Christen. “Yeah! Just… tired.”

Nina rolled her eyes good naturedly before smiling at Christen and Tobin. “I guess that’s our cue to head home. But it was so nice to see you! And I’ll bring the boys by some afternoon.”

“Sounds great! Bye Nina, Tom.” They both waved as the couple began to walk away, Christen letting out a breath when they reached the other side of the park.

“Holy shit,” Tobin whispered.

“Tell me about it.”

“How often does that happen?”

Not… not too often.” They began to walk over to where Khaleesi and Morena were playing. “Once every couple of months, but it’s usually just some guy at the store or something. Not my neighbor, who knows exactly where I live.”

“Wait, you don’t… you don’t think he’ll like, do something, do you?”

“No! No… I mean I hope not. I don’t think so. I think it’ll just be more of a case of him turning into a hormonal teenage boy anytime we’re in the same room.”

“He’s gross. The way he was looking you up and down?”

Christen shrugged. “He was just being a typical man.”

“Men are gross,” Tobin grumbled. Once they had both dogs on their leashes, they headed back to the car, done for the day.

Back at the house, Tobin brought it up again. “I just feel like he could have handled the whole thing better.”

Christen hung the leashes up on their hook. “I mean, you’re not wrong, but that’s how it usually goes. I don’t think that… Men don’t see porn stars as real people sometimes. They’re… fantasies. Literally. And when they suddenly see them face to face, it’s like their whole equilibrium is thrown off. They suddenly forget every bit of social etiquette they’ve ever been taught. It’s just… boobs, in the flesh, it’s like their brains short circuit or something.”

“Well I like boobs just as much as the next dude, maybe even more, and I can still act like a normal person, so…” Tobin gave a pointed shrug, making Christen laugh.

“Oh really? More than the next dude? Please, tell me more about how much you love boobs, Tobs, I’m dying to know.”

Tobin’s face flushed red but she was saved from answering by her phone beginning to vibrate. She glanced at the screen. “Gotta take this, Mal’s calling.” Christen just laughed and walked to the kitchen.

"You are receiving a call from inmate 12G0990-" She hit accept.

“Mal?”

“Tobs.”

“Hey, bud. What’s up?”

“Not much. How… how are you?”

Mal’s voice seemed even quieter than normal, something that Tobin didn’t miss. “It’s good! We were just at the dog park.”

“That’s fun.”

“Yeah… the dogs had a blast. And then we ran into one of the neighbors. We were actually just talking about how gross dudes are. How you date them I’ll never know,” she joked, trying to lighten the mood. “You should really think about joining my team, it’s way more fun!” To her surprise and horror, Mal burst into tears. “Hey now, I was just kidding, Mal.”

“Tobin…” the younger girl sobbed.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

She took in a huge gasping breath. “Yeah,” she admitted.

“Did… you get in trouble? Did something happen with your sentence?”

“No.”

“Okay, did… did you get in a fight with someone?”

“No… not really.”

“Okay… not really, what does that mean exactly?” Tobin asked, racking her brain.

“I was… I was just minding my own business, I was on clean up detail, then all of a sudden she was there, she was behind me then I was on the ground.”

“You were jumped?”

“I guess, yeah…”

“Oh my god, are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“It’s not…”

“You need to go to medical, you need to make sure you don’t have any broken bones or something.”

Mal sniffed hard on the other end of the line. “It’s not… That’s not how she hurt me, Tobin.”

She felt her insides freeze. “Mal. Dude, you gotta talk to me. What happened? Who is ‘she?’ Another inmate? A guard?”

“An inmate. I don’t know her.”

“Mal, you need to report it.”

“Why? So I can piss her off and get killed next time?”

“Mal, they can move you, they’ll protect you-”

“No they won’t, Tobin. They won’t believe me, or say it was consensual.”

“Mal-”

“I shouldn’t have told you,” she said suddenly. “I shouldn’t have called.”

“No, I’m so glad you did-”

“I have to go.”

“No, Mal, wait!” But the line cut off, leaving Tobin with no answers.

“Toby?” She turned to see Christen staring at her worriedly from the bottom of the stairs. “What’s wrong?”

She looked down at her phone, trying to wrap her head around what had just happened. “She hung up, I tried to tell her not to, but she did-”

Christen grabbed her by the shoulders and gave her a tiny shake. “Tobin. What happened?”

She looked up into Christen’s eyes. “I think Mal was raped.” And with that, the floodgates opened, and she began to cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come chat w me on tumblr/twitter


	13. Three in a Bed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christen and Tobin fight for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay!!! Work has literally been working me to the bone, and I had a friend staying with me for the holidays. This chapter is... I don't know. It was hard for me to write, I'm not sure it's some of my best work. Lemme know.

Tobin’s body felt tight with frustration; she needed to call someone, she needed to make this right.

“Tobin, just breath.”

“I’ve gotta, I need, I have to tell someone!”

Christen steered her onto the couch, kneeling in front of her. “Tobs, you need to calm down, just breathe-”

“How can I calm down? She was, she’s all alone and hurting and I’m here, and I have to do something-”

“Tobin, breathe-”

“I can’t breathe!” she gasped, wiping angrily at her cheeks. “I can’t breathe, knowing that I left her-”

“This isn’t your fault!”

Tobin popped up onto her feet, tearing her hands through her hair as she began to pace around the room. “Then who’s fault is it?”

“Whoever assaulted her!”

“I have to make this right-”

“Please just… stop. Take a second.”

“I left her there, I should have-”

“Tobin this isn’t about you!” Tobin stopped and turned to look at Christen, who had come to her feet and was looking at Tobin with her arms crossed tightly across her chest.

“What… I know that.”

“Do you?”

“Excuse me for being upset,” Tobin snapped. “It’s just that someone close to me just disclosed that they were sexually assaulted.”

“I’m not saying you can’t be upset, Tobin! I’m saying that this isn’t about you.”

“This is about Mal! And I need to contact the prison and let them know what happened, whoever it is deserves to be punished, she needs to be moved to where she won’t hurt someone else-”

“Did Mal ask you to do that?”

“She- no, she said she was scared she would come after her again, but she needs to be protected-”

“If she asked you not to say anything then you can’t.”

Tobin looked at her incredulously. “She’s a kid, Christen! She’s sixteen, she doesn’t understand-”

“And you do? Do you understand what it’s like to be behind bars? Do you understand how she’s feeling?”

“I know she’s scared-”

“It isn’t your place to say anything, Tobin.”

Tobin took a step back, trying to keep herself from saying something stupid that she didn’t mean. “Someone has to.”

“Not if she thinks it will put her in more danger. As a sex worker-”

“You don’t know, Christen! She’s not like you, she didn’t choose this.”

Christen became very still, staring at Tobin from across the living room. “What does that mean?”

“She… she got turned out on the streets by someone she trusted. She’s never been a headliner at a club, she didn’t have a client list of rich old dudes looking for someone to talk to. She didn’t get to live on the privileged side of sex work. Your experiences aren’t the same, don’t act like they are.” The words were out of her mouth before she could even comprehend that she was speaking, things that she hadn’t even realized she thought until she heard herself say them. Christen narrowed her eyes.

“You’re right, Tobin. I haven’t worked on the streets. I’ve been very lucky, but if you think for one moment I don’t know the things that happen out there, that I’m somehow oblivious to the violence and hardship that comes from being a pro, then you’ve lost your fucking mind.” She took several steps closer. “Do you think because you spent a couple months interviewing girls in the prison system, you’re somehow qualified to tell _me_ the dark sides of sex work?”

Tobin blinked at her, her head aching at the avalanche of emotions hitting her body. “No, that’s not-”

“I know that I’m lucky, Tobin. It’s just like you said, I’m privileged. But that’s why I’m advocating to get us better working conditions, more resources. I’m doing what I can. But don’t forget for a second that you’re more privileged than I ever even thought about being.”

“Christen, I didn’t-”

“Didn’t what?”

She took a deep breath, her body sagging against the wall behind her. “I didn’t… I’m scared, okay? Mal’s been hurt and I can’t help her and I hate it. I hate that I can’t protect her.”

“I know. It’s okay to be scared.”

“I didn’t mean…”

“What?”

“What I said. About how your experiences aren’t the same.”

Christen sighed. “They’re not the same, you’re right. But that doesn’t mean I don’t know what I’m talking about.”

Tobin wrapped her arms around herself, trying to fight off the sudden swoop of nausea that had hit her. “What am I supposed to do? She’s hurting. She’s hurt.”

“What did she ask you to do?”

“She… she said she couldn’t tell anyone, that they wouldn’t believe her.”

“If she doesn’t want to report it, that’s her choice.”

“She’s a kid, she doesn’t understand-”

“She still has the right to make that choice, Tobin,” Christen cut in gently. “I would also recommend that she report it, but we don’t get to make that choice for her, especially if she thinks reporting will put her in more danger.”

“I just… oh my god.” Tobin wanted to do what was right, but she wasn’t sure what that was.

“Do you wanna sit down? Maybe have some water?”

Tobin shook her head. “No. I just… I’m gonna go for a run. I need to clear my head.”

“Okay. Let me grab my tennis shoes-”

“No, Chris. I need… I think I need to be alone for a bit. It’s not, I’m not trying to be a bitch, I just need some space.”

“Oh. Okay.” Christen nodded, but Tobin could see the uncertainty written across her face. “Alright then.”

“Just… for a bit. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. If you need to be alone, you need to be alone.”

“I… yeah.” Tobin wanted to say something else, so somehow communicate to Christen just how upset she was feeling, that she felt shaken to her very core, but couldn’t find the words she needed. Instead she shrugged into her jacket, unable to look at Christen as she left through the front door.

X

A week passed, and then another. Tobin waited for another call from Mal, but it didn’t come. She wrote her a letter, hoping it would help her feel less alone, but no reply came.

Tobin had tried to apologize to Christen for what she had said while they were arguing, but Christen had cut her off, telling her it wasn’t necessary. They were fine.

Still, Tobin felt like she was in a funk. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was failing Mal by not doing anything, but she didn’t see what other options she had. She didn’t know any of the details and even if she did, she couldn’t risk putting Mal in more danger.

She and Christen had already went on their morning run, and she had gone upstairs to shower. As she stepped out of her room, she heard the doorbell ring. Christen answered the door and Tobin recognized the neighbor they had run into at the dog park. Her face was hard and drawn, her eyes narrowed as she looked at Christen.

“Oh, hi Nina. Did you bring Liam to see the dogs?” Christen peered around her, and Nina scoffed.

“No, and I won’t be bringing either of my sons over here. Ever.”

Tobin heard Christen take a deep breath. “Is everything alright?”

“No. Everything is absolutely not alright.” Nina stepped across the threshold and Christen closed the door, throwing a wary glance at where Tobin was standing frozen on the stairs.

“Did something happen?”

Nina threw her head back with a derisive laugh. “I guess you could say that. Last night, I wake up at two in the morning to use the bathroom and realize that Tom isn’t in bed beside me. So I decide to go down the hall to his office to check on him, and what do you think I see?”

Christen didn’t say anything, but Tobin felt her stomach sink.

“I push open the door and there’s my husband, the man I’ve been married to for twelve years, in front of the computer with his hand around his dick watching porn on the computer. And not just any porn. No, porn starring you.”

“Nina…”

“Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

“I’m… sorry that you found out this way, but if it’s any consolation, watching porn is natural, even if you’re in a long term relationship-”

“Natural?! It’s sick! It’s…” The woman buried her face in her hands for a moment, overcome with emotion. She dropped her arms back down by her sides, fixing Christen with a hard stare. “You’re disgusting. You’re… I googled you when I got up this morning, now I know all about you. You’re a prostitute?!”

“I’m an escort-”

“You’re a whore!”

“Hey.” Tobin came the rest of the way down the stairs, standing just behind Christen. “You don’t get to talk about her like that.”

“You… knew? You know what she does and you’re still willing to stay in this house?” Nina turned back to Christen. “I can’t… I can’t believe you’ve been in our neighborhood all this time without us knowing the kind of… filth that you’re involved in. God, we’re going to have to power wash this entire house when you leave,” she spat.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Christen replied evenly.

“Oh yes, you are. We can’t have someone like you in our neighborhood, we’re trying to raise children here! You’re disgusting, and I will get rid of you if it’s the last thing I do.”

Christen took a step forward. “I’m the disgusting one? For what, being watched by your husband? If that makes me gross, then maybe you should take a long hard look at who you’re married to.”

Nina gaped at her. “He is… he made a… you led him astray!”

“No. Your husband was already looking at porn and he happened across one of my videos. He paid to watch me. I led him nowhere.”

“He’s just a man!” Nina insisted, her face red.

“And I’m just a woman! But somehow, that’s never quite the same, is it?”

“I’m going to tell everyone what a nasty whore you are. Once everyone knows, you’ll have no chance but to leave.”

Tobin stepped forward. “No you won’t.”

“Oh and you’re going to stop me? How?”

Tobin set her jaw. “I’m a journalist, I’m writing a piece on Christen’s activism. Whatever you choose to do with this information, it’ll be in the article. And then every person that reads it will know that your husband was sneaking out of your bed to watch Christen’s videos.”

“I… I’m not giving you consent to write about me! I will sue you, for… defamation!”

Tobin gave a low chuckle. “See, the only way you can sue for defamation is if I print something that’s false. But all I’m going to write is the truth. And don’t worry, I’ll change the names. I’ll tell about how ‘John’ approached us at the park, about how he blatantly was gawking at Christen after he made the connection. And how his wife ‘Gina’ become so enraged over the actions of her husband that she decided to crucify Christen among the neighbors. Maybe I’ll even write about how ‘John’ and ‘Gina’ have two little boys, and how their house had a beautiful bed of… what did you say she grows, Chris? Tulips?” She turned back to Nina. “Little details that pique people’s interest. Details that could be about anyone, really.”

Nina stared at Tobin, her mouth opening and closing in horrified shock. “You’re just as sick as she is. You’re both… disgusting!”

“You don’t get to vilify porn stars without placing equal blame on the people buying the product. If she’s really that gross, what does that make your husband?”

She stood there for a moment, her eyes darting back and forth between Tobin and Christen, before turning and stalking towards the front door. She turned around to face them one last time. “Stay away from my family. Don’t talk to my children or my husband.”

Christen rolled her eyes. “Nina, if I wanted to fuck your husband, I would have already. Now get the hell out of my house.”

She was gone with a slam of the door, leaving Christen and Tobin in silence.

“Are you okay?” she finally asked. Chris gave her a tense nod.

“Yeah, I just… I wasn’t expecting to spend the morning getting yelled at by the secretary of the HOA.” She pushed her hair out of her face. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For… sticking up for me, I guess.”

Tobin took a deep breath, stepping forward and taking her face in both of her hands. “Christen. No one gets to talk about you like that. Not ever, but especially not in my presence. I have your back.”

And with that, she leaned in, pressing her lips to Christen’s for the first time since Christen kissed her after the ballet. She let all of her energy channel through into the kiss, trying to tell Chris how much she cared about her without being able to speak the words aloud.

There was so much that Tobin couldn’t control. She couldn’t force her editors to trust her when she found a story that she knew would be good, she couldn’t make her family stop worrying about her. She couldn’t protect Mal while she was behind bars, try as she might. All she could control was herself, in this moment, in this space. And if in this moment, she was by Christen’s side… then that’s where she would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Several Things:  
1\. If you have been sexually assaulted, please know that you have resources. People care about you, and they will do anything they can to help you  
https://www.rainn.org/about-national-sexual-assault-telephone-hotline  
https://www.plannedparenthood.org/learn/sex-and-relationships/sexual-consent/what-should-i-do-if-i-or-someone-i-know-was-sexually-assaulted  
2\. Teens who are jailed alongside adults are 5X more likely to be assaulted than those jailed in juvenile facilities. Assault rates are higher in female inmates than male inmates, higher in black inmates than white inmates, and higher in younger inmates as opposed to those 35 or older.
> 
> 3\. On less statistical, much more cheerful note, I'm going to Europe next week! It's my first time to leave the US, I'm v excited! I will try to bank some chapters before I go, but if I'm unable to, it might be a few weeks before my next chapter. Thanks in advance for your patience.
> 
> Anyway, come yell into the abyss with me on tumblr, @thetheatrelady


	14. Pull Me Close

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ali gives Tobin some important advice and Tobin and Christen have an important discussion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My loves! Happy Sex Worker Wednesday!
> 
> Sorry for the two week gap, but I'm back from Europe and excited to write!
> 
> (Also, on a completely un-writing related note, I made out with a cute Irish girl in Dublin, which is very exciting, especially because I hadn't kissed anyone since the whole Basketball Girl saga. So that was nice!)

Tobin had just finished recounting the last few days to Ali, who was watching her intently through the screen of Tobin's computer. "So... yeah."

"What do you mean, 'so yeah?' What happened next?"

"Next?"

Ali rolled her eyes. "What happened after you kissed her, Tobs?"

"Why do you wanna know? Is Ashlyn not taking care of you over there?" she teased, pushing her glasses up her nose.

Ali gave her a look that couldn't quite hide the grin she was smothering. "You're a pervert."

"You're the pervert, wanting to know what happened after the kiss!"

"Tobin," Ali whined, and she gave in.

"Nothing, Ali." The other girl snorted. "No, I'm being serious. I kissed her, and she kissed me back, and then... I grabbed my laptop and we both started working for the day."

"Nothing?! C'mon, you're killing me!"

"What exactly were you expecting?"

Ali threw her hands up. "I don't know, for you to confess your feelings for her? For you to scoop her up and carry her upstairs and have your way with her? To at least reach second base?"

"Ali, I can't-"

"Why not? And don't give me the 'she's my subject' bullshit. You guys crossed that line a long time ago. You're emotionally involved with her, whether you want to admit it or not. So what's the harm in exploring your connection physically?"

"It's just... it's different!"

"Because she's a sex worker?"

Tobin rolled her eyes. "Of course not."

Ali gave her a calculating look. "Are you sure about that?"

"I don't have a problem with the fact that she's a sex worker."

"I'm just saying, you've never been one to shy away from being physically intimate. And you may not have a problem with it, but I do think that's what is affecting the situation."

Tobin stared resolutely at the wall, avoiding Ali's eyes. "Have I ever mentioned how annoying it is to be friends with a therapist?"

Ali snorted. "Only a hundred times."

"I don't have a problem with it," Tobin insisted again. "But I guess... I am more aware of the physical connection. It's like... I don't want her to feel like I'm using her in any way, or like... I don't know, I'm expecting anything. I don't want to pressure her to anything or assume one way or the other."

"From everything you've said about her, it seems like she's a pretty confident, self assured woman."

"She is," Tobin agreed immediately.

"So... if you were to somehow cross a line, and I don't think you would because you're a remarkably sensitive person, don't you think she would tell you?"

"I..." Tobin sighed. "It sucks when you're right all the time."

"Trust me, Ashlyn feels the same way."

"Speaking of, where is Ash?"

Ali smiled. "She took the dogs out for a walk. Neither of us had work today, so we've been taking a lazy day, complete with lots of trash TV and Chinese food."

"That sounds really nice and domestic." Normally, Tobin loved to tease Ali and Ash about their apparently fairy tale lives in New York, but today she couldn't help but feel a bit oddly jealous.

"What's that face about?"

She gave her head a quick shake, sending her a smile. "Nothing."

"Tobin." She didn't say anything, so Ali kept going. "You can't be upset that you don't have something if you're not going to speak up and at least try."

"I'm not upset."

"You need to talk to-" But Ali was cut off by Logan jumping up inter her lap, shoving her face into Ali's and giving her a few licks. "Hi baby."

"She missed her Mom." Ashlyn came into view. "Hey Tobes!"

"Sup Ash?"

"Oh you know, just living the dream." She hopped the back of the couch so that she was sitting beside Ali, and planted a kiss to her wife's cheek.

Tobin sighed when the slight pang in her chest strengthened. "Well, I should actually go. Get some work done."

"Aw, but I just got here!" Ash pouted. "I want to hear about everything that's happening!"

She found herself suddenly exhausted at the thought of having to rehash everything. "Ali can fill you in later, it's a whole thing. How's SNL?"

Ash gave her a sympathetic look but took the bite, launching into her latest exploits as a camera operator for the comedy show.

"Okay, I really should get to work," Tobin repeated.

"Call us anytime, Tobs, we really miss you!"

Ash nodded in agreement. "The East Coast isn't the same without you here."

"Thanks guys, I really miss you too."

"Say hi to _Chriiiiisten_ for us," Ashlyn teased and Tobin just smiled.

"I will. Talk to you later, love you."

"Love you too!" they chorused, and the video feed disappeared. She took a deep breath, trying to pull her emotions together. What was she going to do?

X

That night, after they had cooked and ate dinner then did the dishes, Tobin found herself next to Christen on the couch, Netflix open on the TV.

"Have you watched You?" Tobin asked as she flicked through the options.

"No, I haven't."

"We should start binge it! My sisters literally won't stop talking about it."

"Um... I'm okay." She looked over to see Christen chewing on her lip.

"Everything alright?"

Christen glanced over and gave her a small smile. "Yeah! Yeah... I just don't want to watch stuff about stalking. It hits a little close to home."

An ache made it's way into Tobin's stomach. "It, it does?"

Chris took a deep breath. "Being a sex worker... it makes you extra vulnerable to stuff like that. Particularly when you're dancing, guys feel like because they're paying money to see you and your body... it's different, y'know? I mean, guys watch my videos and have feelings, but it's through a screen. It usually doesn't register that I'm a flesh and blood person. And chances are, even if it does turn into something, they don't know where I live, where to find me. But if a customer at a club gets a little possessive, it can lead to some awful shit."

Tobin took a slow, deep breath. "Have you ever been... hurt?"

Christen shook her head slightly. "No. I've been... left notes and gifts, received weird, scary emails, had guys fixate on me... but I've been really lucky."

"That doesn't sound lucky. That sounds awful," Tobin choked out.

"It is lucky. I've seen... Some of the girls I work with have had awful things happen because a customer got obsessed. Alex has had... god, probably five restraining orders because of guys following her home from the club. And Allie..." she trailed off.

"Allie?"

Christen sighed. "We were... young. Well, not so young I guess. But there was a guy. Typical, as far customers go anyway. And he would leave her letters with management, send flowers to the club, whatever. But he started following her home from the club without anyone realizing. And so she started finding gifts on her front step, and she went to the police but they wouldn't do anything. Or couldn't, I don't know. But then one day we were at the club and she didn't show up for her shift, which wasn't like her. And we just kept talking about how something didn't seem right, she wasn't answering our texts or calls. So Crystal went over with one of our bouncers in tow... If they hadn't gone, I don't know if she would be alive right now. He had broken in. He'd been waiting for her when she got home from work the night before."

"Oh my god..." Tobin breathed.

"Thankfully, she had a key to Allie's house and they were able to get in... the bouncer beat the shit out of the guy, Crystal got her untied, they called the police... But a lot of damage was already done."

"Was she okay? I mean, she's alive, obviously, but... how could she keep dancing after that? Why wouldn't she leave?"

"And do what? This is her job, it's what she's good at, how she pays the bills. Would an actress that's assaulted on a set quit acting?"

"No..." Tobin turned the story over in her mind. "You must have been so scared."

Christen shrugged. "Shaken, definitely. But no more scared than normal."

"Thank you for sharing that with me," Tobin murmured, slowly reaching out to take her hand.

"I trust you." Christen tugged on her hand until she looked over at her. "I really do, y'know."

"I trust you too." As she looked into Christen's eyes, her heart began to pound in her chest, Ali's words spinning through her mind, urging her to just take the fucking leap already. "Chris?"

"Hm?"

"I... I like you." Christen gave her a small smile, and she plunged forward recklessly. "I know, I know that I'm a journalist who's writing about you and that makes this so many levels of unprofessional, but, but I do. I like you Christen. I think you're smart, and compassionate, and funny, and ridiculously attractive, and I just, I don't know what to do with myself over it."

"Have you considered... kissing me?"

Tobin rolled her eyes. "I did," she grumbled.

"I like you too."

She couldn't fight the smile that made it's way to her lips. "Yeah?"

This time Christen rolled her eyes. "Yes, Tobin!"

"I don't... okay! Um... what does all of this mean?"

"I don't know."

"I don't know either."

"I thought you liked me, but then you... didn't really make a move."

"Hey, I kissed you!" Tobin repeated.

"Yeah, like weeks after I kissed you!"

"I just... I guess I'm scared."

Understanding flashed through Christen's eyes. "Because of what I do?" she asked evenly.

"No! Well, yes, but not how you think, I just... I know that there are a lot of preconceptions about sex workers, and I didn't want to... pressure you, or push boundaries."

"I'm a grown up, Toby. I know what my boundaries are."

"I know, I just... I'm nervous, and-"

"Tobin?"

"Yeah?"

Christen's mouth quirked up into grin. "Just kiss me, already."

Tobin's mind went blank. "Oh. Okay." So she did, leaning forward and capturing Christen's lips in a kiss, letting her hands tangle in Christen's hair and cup the back of her head, urging her closer. It started of as warm and sweet, Tobin delighted at finding herself in this position again, but it quickly grew to something hot, something passionate, with clashing teeth and wandering hands. Christen scooted closer, throwing her leg over Tobin's thighs so that she straddling her lap. She pulled away from Tobin's lips to kiss across her jaw, then her pulse point. Tobin was gasping underneath her, wondering if this was a dream, wondering if Christen would judge her for coming in her pants before they even got their shirts off.

"Yes... that feels so good," she managed to croak out as her hands gripped Chris's hips.

Christen's ringtone cut through the air, finally breaking them apart. Tobin would be lying if she said the sight of Christen, breathless, lips swollen, looking a little dazed, didn't make her chest puff with pride and her stomach twist with longing.

"One second," she panted, standing up and grabbing her phone from the coffee table.

Tobin made her way into the kitchen, filling up a glass with water and immediately chugging it, hoping that it would help her calm down. She closed her eyes and counted down from twenty. She was a grown woman for god's sake; she could handle making out with a beautiful woman, and whatever else came next.

She walked back into the living room as Christen hung up.

"Hi."

"Hi," she echoed back, glancing back down at her phone. "Uh, that was work."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. The production that was supposed to film next month just got bumped up."

"Bumped up to when?"

"The day after tomorrow. So tomorrow I'll have to book in for a full salon service."

"Wow, okay."

"I um, I already checked with the people involved on this shoot, they all said it was okay for you to sit in."

The weight of what Christen was saying fully settled on Tobin. "Oh! You want me to come with you?"

"Well... that is what we discussed," Christen said with a slight laugh. "Is... that okay? Are you uncomfortable with that?"

"No! No, I'd just... Yeah, that's fine. What time is your call?"

"Eleven in the morning. We can still get up and run if you want?" Christen's face was suddenly clouded with uncertainty, which finally shook Tobin from her state of shock.

"Sounds like a plan." She went back to the couch and flopped down, picking up the remote. "How does a few episodes of Schitt's Creek sound?"

"Perfect." Christen sat down next to her, and Tobin put an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close as she took a steadying breath. It would be okay. Whatever happened, she just had to trust that it would be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What are we tHiNkInG?


	15. Ready, set, go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tobin accompanies Christen to set

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Sex Worker Wednesday!
> 
> As a warning, this chapter is dealing with a pornography shoot. I tried to handle it as delicately as I could, but... there was only so much I could do lol.

_I am so, so, incredibly fucked._

Tobin tried to focus on taking steady breaths as Christen drove them across Portland to the set. Nerves were running through her body like electricity, the anxiety making her knee bounce, ruining the air of calm she was trying so hard to project.

"So... do you have any questions about today?" Chris asked, her eyes flickering away from the road for a moment to glance at Tobin.

She swallowed thickly, trying to access the journalistic part of her brain. "Um... not really. Or, I'm sure I will, just not right now. Will... will I be able to talk to you any throughout the day? Or will I need to stay out of the way? Either way is fine, I don't want to be a bother, I know that you're working."

"No, we'll be able to chat. I mean, not while I'm in front of the camera, obviously," she gave a light laugh, "but anytime we're stopped to change camera set up or something like that."

"Oh. Sweet."

Christen pulled up to a nondescript warehouse, parking near a side door. "What do you want for dinner tonight?"

"Dinner?"

"Yeah. Craft service is always on the light side, just so we don't have any weird bloating while filming, so by the time we finish everyone is starving. Last time we all worked together, Zach cooked burgers and hotdogs out on the grill, it was so good. But I think we'll probably all go out tonight."

Tobin squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to think about the very casual way the name _Zach _fell from Christen's lips, trying not to think about the fact that she'd apparently filmed with this guy before, that they were familiar, friendly even-

"Anything sounds good. Maybe Japanese?"

Christen hummed slightly. "There's an amazing Hibachi place over near Grand, we could see if they have any reservations open for tonight." They got out of the car, Christen grabbing a duffle bag from the backseat. Tobin went to take it from her but was distracted by her phone beginning to vibrate. She pulled it out to see her mom's name.

"Oh, I... I haven't spoken to my mom in a few days, I better take this," she told Christen, and she nodded.

"Sure thing. Just come in through this door and show your ID, they can bring you to the makeup room."

Tobin nodded and answered the phone. "Hello?"

"Hi sweetheart! Are you busy? Is this a bad time?"

She stifled a laugh at the absurdity of her life. "No, no, it's fine. What's up?"

"Not much, just wanted to check in with you. How are things going?"

"They're... good. Everything is going fine, I'm getting lots of material for the piece."

"Like what?"

Tobin shook her head slightly. "Wouldn't want to ruin the surprise," she sidestepped.

"Oh, come on! Have you gotten to see anything crazy yet?"

"Define crazy."

"I don't know... you mentioned weeks ago that you went to a strip club- sorry, a gentlemen's club," she amended.

This time she chuckled outright. "That's not that crazy- you do know that we went to a _gentlemen's club_ for Perry's bachelorette party, right? Or the female equivalent, anyway."

"Well... yes, but it's different! You got to see behind the scenes. It just... it seems like it could be kind of glamorous?"

Tobin furrowed her eyebrows. "Glamorous?"

Her mom sighed into the phone. "Oh, don't listen to me, I don't know what I'm saying. I guess when you're an old married woman who's had four children, anything seems glamorous."

"It was... definitely interesting, I'll give you that."

"Have you gotten to explore Portland any?"

"Not too much, I've been-"

"-focused on work," her mother finished for her.

"Hey! What's that tone of voice supposed to mean?" Tobin frowned.

"Nothing honey! I just... I worry about you sometimes. Katie and Perry are both married, Jeff has been dating Paige for nearly two years... I just _know _that there's a beautiful, smart, kind woman out there, waiting for you to find her, and I worry that you'll be so busy looking through your camera that you won't even notice."

Tobin ran a hand through her hair, trying to ignore what felt like a very pointed message from the universe. "I... I have time, Mom."

"Have you talked to Shirley, lately?"

She rolled her eyes. "Shirley's doing just fine, last I heard she was in Europe, doing humanitarian work."

"I just feel like you two were so good together! And I know it's hard, but surely you could make it work!"

"Shirley and I are better off as friends, Mom. We loved each other, we really did, but... but we're never going to get married." It had taken Tobin a while to see that, but it was true. Shirley, while an amazing person, would never be _her _person.

_Then who is your person?_

She gave her head a shake, not wanting to address that particular question. "Anyway, I should probably let you go, I'm actually headed in for a shoot."

"Oh, headed where?"

"I've really gotta go, Mom, I'll talk to you later. I love you!"

"Okay, I love you too! Be safe!"

Tobin hung up and took another breath, letting her cheeks puff out as she slowly exhaled. It seemed like everyday more things got pushed into the 'ignore for now' pile. She couldn't help but wonder when she would have to stop pushing them away- and deal with them head on.

X

"Everything okay?" Christen asked, catching Tobin's eye in the large, lighted mirror as she came into the room, smoothing the visitor's badge stuck to her tee shirt. 

"Yeah! Yeah, my mom just wanted to chat."

"How is she? How's the rest of your family?" Christen asked earnestly.

"Everyone's good!" She stopped and grinned. "She actually was mainly asking about the project. She let slip that she thinks it could be 'glamorous' to work at a gentlemen's club."

Christen giggled. "Glamorous isn't the word I'd use. Or gentlemen."

Tobin laughed as well. "Yeah, I tried not to burst her bubble on that one."

A door to the side opened, and a very tall, muscular man came out wearing a white, terrycloth robe that matched Christen's. "Ah, speaking of gentlemen, Tobin, this is Zach. Zach, this is Tobin."

He gave her a wide smile and stuck out his hand. "Hey, it's so nice to finally meet you!"

Tobin disliked him on sight. She forced a smile and shook his hand. "Likewise." Her voice came out a bit strained, but if he noticed he didn't say anything.

"CP sent us the link to your website, you really do some amazing work."

"Thank you."

"I can't wait to read this piece. I mean, you couldn't have picked a better subject to follow."

Tobin wanted to punch him in his stupid, smug face. _Okay! We get it! You're about to have sex with her! You don't have to be so obnoxious about it._

Suddenly a curtain to the side opened, and a stunning woman stepped through. "Rose, how long till you need me in the chair?"

The makeup artist hummed. "I still need to finish Christen's eyes, so... fifteen?"

"Okay." She swept her long blonde hair over her shoulder then turned to Tobin. "Oh my gosh, hi! You must be Tobin!"

"Uh... yeah, that's me." Before she could say anything else, the woman had thrown her arms around her in a tight hug. 

"I'm so excited that you're here! I'm Julie. Please ignore my plain face," she added with a small smile and an eye roll as she pulled back. "I promise that I'm much prettier with makeup on."

"You're stunning no matter what you have on," Zach said firmly, then leaned over and kissed her softly on the lips.

"Aw, thanks baby."

Tobin found herself impossibly confused. Why was this woman here if Christen was in the shoot?

"Zach and Julie are two of my favorite costars," Christen said as Rose began to apply liquid eyeliner, and Julie smiled as she sat down next to her.

"Aw, right back at you, Pressi!"

Tobin's head was swimming.

"Oh! You... all three of you are going to be in the video?"

"Did I not mention that? Yeah, Zach and JJ specialize in threesome scenarios."

Tobin slowly nodded, trying to keep her face neutral. "Wow! So you're... together."

"Married for two years, but together for four," Julie said proudly.

"She just can't get rid of me," he grinned, resting his hands on her shoulders.

"Congrats," Tobin rasped, busying herself with pulling a chair over so that she could have a moment to gather herself. "So... how did you meet?"

"On a set," Julie replied. "We got paired up for a film, and afterwards he asked for my contact info. I thought that Zach wanted to just, well, y'know-"

"But then I asked her out on a date."

"We went to a carnival, and he won me a teddy bear. We kissed at the top of the ferris wheel and the rest is history," she sighed happily, clearly still starry eyed, and him not much better.

"Aren't they just too cute?" Christen asked with a grin.

"Almost revoltingly so," Rose piped up, earning a swat to the thigh.

"I just knew as soon as I saw her that she was someone I had to get to know better," Zach smiled, and Tobin was forced to admit to herself that her first impression of Zach might have been a bit tinted by her jealousy.

"That's so great," she said softly. She pulled out her camera and got some shots of the three of them talking and laughing. "Do you guys only do films with each other now?"

"We do 2 girls/1 guy scenarios, yeah."

"So... are you queer?" Tobin asked.

Julie laughed. "Nope! I'm pretty much as straight as they come. But there was really only so many videos we could make together, and I really didn't want to have sex with any other guys. And a director approached us about doing a threesome and we decided to give it a shot and it worked out so well! So we just keep coming back."

"And... you don't have a problem with Zach touching other women?" Tobin asked, partially skeptical at the idea, partially honestly curious.

Julie shrugged. "Not really. I mean... I think it would be different if it was just Zach and another woman, without me there. Well, actually... no, I think I would still probably be okay," she answered thoughtfully. "It definitely helps that we were both in the business before we got together, so we both understand what's happening. I mean, I did plenty of scenes with guys that sure, looked very intimate and close, but off camera? Absolutely nothing. And I would say that's the rule, not the exception."

"At the end of the day, Jules is my person. Yeah, I might have just spent several hours staring at another woman, touching another woman or whatever, but that woman is a scene partner, a coworker. It has nothing on the connection Julie and I have. No offense," he offered to Christen, and she laughed. 

"None taken."

Julie gave Tobin a smile as Rose began to work on her makeup. "So yeah. Does that answer the question?"

"Yeah, it does."

Chris came over to stand next to her. running her hand gently along her arm. "Are you okay? Want some water or fruit?"

Tobin grinned up at her. "No, I'm okay, thanks."

Christen smiled back. "Okay. I'm gonna go get into wardrobe then."

"Okay." Tobin watched as she left the room.

"Falling in love yet?"

She whipped around to look at Julie, her face flushing pink. "What?" she practically squeaked. 

"With Portland," she clarified with an overly innocent look.

"Jules..." Zach shook his head playfully, leaning over to kiss her cheek before following Christen through the curtain.

"Uh, yeah, it's a great city. Really beautiful... breathtaking, honestly."

"It is, isn't it." Julie didn't say anything for a moment while Rose carefully lined and colored her lips. "Other cities try, but they just don't stack up against Portland."

"Yeah," Tobin agreed.

"Alright, go put on your top so I can start on your hair," Rose told her. She stood up, wandering closer to where Tobin was sitting, leaning down to grasp the arms of Tobin's chair and looking at her straight on.

"Portland's also very smart, and sweet, and badass, and an all around good person, the kind you don't meet everyday." She leaned forward so that her lips were just an inch from Tobin's ear. "And as someone who's had Portland between her legs... let's just say that the noises you hear today won't be fake in any way. Portland does _sinful_ things with her tongue." Tobin's face was now red, the heat in her cheeks only matched by the heat she was now feeling low in her stomach. Julie pulled back and shrugged at Tobin. "Y'know. Just in case you were wondering." She gave her a smile. "See you in a sec!"

Tobin gave a low groan and buried her face in her hands, wanting nothing more than to sink into the ground.

"You okay?" She lifted her head to find Rose gazing at her, one eyebrow raised as she took a sip of her iced coffee.

"Yeah," Tobin replied. "I'll be fine."

X

She was _not _fine.

She was standing off to the side, trying to stay out of the way of the various cameramen and operators who were watching the scene in front of them just as intently, although for very different reasons.

Christen was in front of Tobin, completely naked and exposed, her position on her hands and knees accentuating every muscle in her arms, legs, and core. Everything about her was pure heaven, but Tobin was pretty sure she had stumbled into some personalized circle of hell.

Because she wasn't the only one who was naked and moving.

"Cut! Can we fix the lighting? I don't feel like we're getting enough towards the back..." The director, Carli, started speaking to one of the light guys and the three performers stopped what they were doing. 

"You doin okay, honey?" Zach asked as his wife sat up from where her mouth had been between his legs.

"I'm okay! How bout you, Pressi?" Julie asked, turning over her shoulder.

Christen wiped the back of her hand across her mouth before patting the side of Julie's thigh. "I'm good! I mean, my jaw is maybe cramping a little, but what are you going to do?" she laughed. She turned and her eyes scanned the small collection of people until she found Tobin's eyes. "Are you okay?" she mouthed, giving her a questioning thumbs up.

Tobin forced a smile to her face, returning the thumbs up.

"Okay everyone, we're going to take it back a few pages, but hopefully we're going to roll straight through to when CP starts riding Zach. Any questions?" The three performers shook their heads, getting back into position, and Carli nodded. "And rolling... and... action."

Tobin swallowed thickly, watching everything happen. So far, she had been able to keep her cool. Was she tensest she'd ever been in her entire life? Yes. Was watching Christen go down on Julie turning her on to the point of nearly being painful? Absolutely. But this is what she had truly been dreading.

She didn't want to watch Christen have sex with Zach, even if she could begrudgingly admit that he was actually a really sweet guy who was obviously head over heels in love with his wife.

She didn't want to watch Christen have sex with anyone else, because she didn't want Christen to have sex with anyone else.

She wanted Christen to have sex with her, and only her.

Her skin prickled with sweat and her stomach began to ache, as she thought about what that truly meant.

It meant that something had to change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :) :) :) here we go


	16. Rough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tobin confronts Christen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Sex Worker Wednesday!!!!
> 
> I know this is several hours later than normal, but honestly I have been curled up sick on the couch for the past few days and I didn't even know if I would be able to get it out at all today. But I did! 
> 
> Here's Chapter 16.

Tobin had been quiet at dinner. As Christen had predicted, they’d ended up going out to eat with Zach and Julie, as well as Rose and a few other crew members, at the Hibachi restaurant Christen had mentioned earlier.

It felt… normal. Any other person in that restaurant wouldn’t have blinked an eye at their table. They were just a group of friends out for a casual night, nothing to pay attention to. Christen looked as beautiful as ever, the makeup scrubbed from her face and her hair hanging around her face, still slightly damp from showering after the shoot wrapped.

But Tobin couldn’t stop the hum of anxiety burning along her spine. She felt tense, the sensation seeping into her muscles until her back was practically aching with how stiff she was. Every time she turned to look at Christen, her mind unhelpfully providing pictures of the exact way Christen’s jaw had dropped the moment Zach had wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled her further down until-

So she had just stopped looking at Christen all together.

She mainly nodded along to what everyone else was saying, having a small side conversation with Carli, the director, about being women in media production. But anytime Christen asked her something she would keep her eyes trained on her plate, nodding or shaking her head, answering as briefly as possible. When they got in the car to go home, Tobin had leaned her head against the glass, closing her eyes as if to take a nap.

“Is everything alright?” Christen asked quietly as they came into the house. Tobin focused on unzipping her jacket, using far more attention than was necessary to hang it neatly on the hook instead of throwing it over the back of the couch like she normally did.

“Yeah,” she murmured. “I’m okay.”

Christen let the dogs in, and they bounded up to Tobin, snuffling their noses against her legs, demanding kisses and pets. She crouched down on their level, giving them just that.

“You’re so good with them.”

She didn’t raise her head, didn’t give Christen the wide grin she normally would have. “Well, they’re just really good girls.”

“Tobin.”

“Hm?”

“Look at me.”

“Chris, I’m tired, I think I’m gonna go upstairs and shower.”

“Tobin. I said, look at me.”

She did, and her stomach ached at the concerned wrinkle between Christen’s eyebrows. Her arms were crossed over her chest, her lips pressed into a hard line. Her normally Zen body was rigid, and Tobin hated the idea that she was the cause behind it.

“What’s wrong?”

She came to standing, pulling a hand through her hair. “I’m fine, really, it just-”

“What?”

“It was a lot, okay? Watching you today, seeing you… work, with Zach and Julie, it was… it was a lot to handle, a lot to process.”

“And I get that, Tobes. Of course it was a lot, but let’s talk about it.”

“I don’t, I don’t know what to say.”

Christen let out a slow breath. “Well we could start with how you feel.”

“I don’t know how I feel.”

“Tobin.” She glanced up, catching the very unimpressed look on Christen’s face. “Come here girls. Come on, let’s go outside for a second.” Christen went to the back door and pulled it open, both dogs obediently filing back into the yard. She made sure the door latched then turned back around, clasping her arms in front of her. “This is… you’re being weird.”

“I’m not meaning to be.”

“Well you are.”

“Christen, I… it was just a lot, okay? It’s one thing to hear about it and talk about it, it’s a whole other thing to see it happen right in front of you. My mind’s just playing catch up. That’s all.”

Christen crossed to the couch and sat down, patting the cushion next to her softly. Tobin dutifully sat down next to her, but neither of them missed the way she couldn’t seem to relax, her shoulders hunched forward as she perched on the edge instead of sprawled backwards. A soft hand found it’s way to her knee, her thumb stroking the skin exposed by the rips in her jeans. “How about we play catch up together?” she murmured.

“I just…”

“I know it’s weird. You don’t have to act like it’s not.”

“Super weird!” Tobin finally exclaimed, burying her face in her hands.

“I know,” Christen agreed. “It would be weird for anyone, even if we weren’t involved in… well, whatever this is that we’re doing.” Her cheeks flushed pink as she stammered through the words. “It’s normal for it to be weird.”

“And it’s not… I’m not even a jealous person by nature, I swear, I’m not! I was never the type to, y’know, like make girlfriends delete their ex’s phone number, or unfollow them on social media. I mean, my best friend is in a relationship with the first girl I ever… that’s not what this is!”

“I know.”

“It was just, it was hard to watch you with, with-“

“With Zach?”

“Yeah! But I mean, also with Julie, all three of you.”

“I can understand that.”

“I…” Panic spasmed through Tobin’s chest. “I like you, Christen. I _like _like you, in a way that I haven’t felt in a long time, or maybe… maybe ever, I don’t know. But it’s just… it’s a lot.”

“You said that.”

Tobin wiped a hand over her face with a groan. “I know, and I’m just talking in circles like a moron, not making any sense-“

“Hey, that’s not true…”

“I just… I like you, Chris,” she repeated, grimacing at her inability to put her feelings into words.

“I like you, too, Tobin.”

Tobin reached out, wrapping her arms around Christen and pulling her close, burying her face in her hair. “You’re special to me. You’re so… so smart, and determined and brave. You have a brain like I can’t even believe. The way you speak sometimes, I don’t know that there’s anyone in this world who you couldn’t convince to your side of a debate. You’re truly just… amazing. Inside and out, you’re incredible. And I guess I’m just struggling with… why. Why do you keep doing this?”

She felt Christen grow very still in her arms. “What do you mean?”

She pulled back slightly so that she could look at her but kept a hold of her shoulders. “You could do literally anything. You could be a writer or a politician or a mentor or… I don’t know, still an activist of some sort, really, you could do anything in the world that you wanted. You don’t… you don’t have to do this. You could do anything else you wanted.”

Christen’s face tightened slightly, her eyes darting around Tobin’s face. “This… is my job. This is what I want to do. You know that.”

“No, I know that. I’ve listened to you speak, and you do it so eloquently, you should be devoting yourself to speaking to people-”

“I am-”

“-no but like, to congress, or someone, someone who can make a difference, who can make the laws required to keep sex workers safe.”

Christen gave her a half smile. “I know, Tobin. And we are doing those things. I mean, I agreed to do your piece for those exact reasons.”

“I could put you in contact with so many people, organizers, copy writers who could help-”

“I thought you were helping me-”

“No, I am! I just mean, there’s a whole community of people on the East Coast that could help you further your cause, I could reach out to them-”

“Tobin! Tobin, babe, just… chill for a second.” Christen brushed a piece of long brown hair out of her face. “I get what you’re saying but… I live here, in Portland. I own a house here, this is… I mean, this is where I film. This is where my community is, where my clients are.”

_Her clients. _This is another one of the things that Tobin had been shoving firmly into the ‘can’t think about right now’ pile. “But the East Coast, in New York-”

“I don’t live in New York!”

“But you could!”

Christen shook her head. “Tobin, you’re not being realistic. I live here. I work here.”

“But you don’t have to.”

“You... You keep saying that, as if someone is holding me hostage, or something.”

“Chris, I can help you.”

Christen’s eyes narrowed dangerously and Tobin felt the energy in the room change. “Help me what, exactly?”

“I could… could help you find a way to better use your talents-“

“I feel like I’m doing a perfectly great job-”

“In a way that wouldn’t make you use your body like this.”

“Like what?” Christen’s voice was sharp.

“Like, like… doing porn, and being an escort.”

Christen pulled herself to her feet, shaking her head. “You are really unbelievable, you know it?”

“What? Chris-”

“So what is this? Hm? Is this your Pretty Woman moment? Is this where you sweep in and tell me that I’m worth more than this, that you can save me? Is that what this whole fucking thing has been about?”

“Christen, no-”

“Because I have to admit, you really… you really fooled me Tobin. This whole time, I… fuck! I really thought you were someone who was able to see me as a real person, not some, some… damsel! Someone you could come in like a fucking knight in shining armor and whisk away!”

“That’s not what I’m saying!”

She threw her arms out in frustration. “Isn’t it?!”

Tobin jumped to her feet. “Stop it! It’s not, I don’t have a problem with what you do, I never did and you know it. I mean, I’m the one who conceptualized this entire piece to shed light on the sex work industry-”

Christen began to mockingly slow clap. “Oh, good for you, Tobin. Seriously. How noble of you, to leave your life and travel across the country to debase yourself among the hookers and whores-”

“Do not put words in my mouth,” Tobin spat out through clenched teeth. “I have never called you-”

“No Tobin. You’ve never said the words. But this, this… this entire attitude I’m seeing right now? This… assumption that I would gladly give up everything I’ve worked for as soon as the first all-knowing, radical, feminist lesbian came careening into my life? You’re no better than Nina from down the street.”

Anger boiled in Tobin’s chest, so hot and consuming that she could barely think around it. “It’s not the same at all!”

“Oh really? How is it not?”

“I don’t think it’s so much to ask that I don’t want to fuck someone who is fucking other people!”

Christen flinched backwards as if Tobin had slapped her. “Well guess what?” she hissed. “I’m not fucking you. And now I never will, so you don’t have to worry about it.”

“So what? It’s just over?”

Christen pulled a hand roughly through her hair, and Tobin could see how close to tears she was. “You’ve made it really clear that whatever this was, you’re not interested anymore.”

“I didn’t say that!”

“You just did!” Christen shouted, her voice breaking. “You… you just did. You made it perfectly clear that you don’t want to be with me.”

“I did not,” Tobin insisted, stepping forward and grabbing one of her elbows for a moment before she ripped it from her grasp. “I want to be with you.”

“Do you want to be with me? Or do you want to be with some sort of idealized version of me that you’ve created in your mind? One without any of the parts that leaves you feeling icky?”

“Goddamn it, Christen!”

“What?! Am I wrong? Because from where I’m standing it seems crystal clear that you’re not on board. You didn’t even… even ask about, about how… you just jumped in and…” she sniffed hard, wiping at her cheeks with the backs of her hands as she miserably fought the tears. “Forget it. Forget all of it.”

“Christen-”

“Just… take your pictures, take our interviews, take whatever… phony, light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnel narrative you’ve somehow found, take them and write your piece. Earn your accolades, your awards, whatever the fuck this was all for. I hope this has been worth it for you. I hope it assuaged whatever bullshit, misplaced guilt you’ve been carrying around. I hope it was fucking worth it, Tobin.”

“Christen-“

“I’m done. I’ve given you all I can give you. Whatever you write now is… it’s up to you. The ball’s in your court, do whatever you want to do. I don’t even care at this point. But I’m done. I’m done, and you need to go.”

“Go?”

“Go. Get out of my house. Not tonight, obviously, I’m not an absolute bitch. I’m not going to throw you out on the street. But make whatever flight arrangements you need to make then… go. This is done.”

“You’re not even listening to me!”

“Have you stopped to listen to yourself?” She opened the back door and let the dogs back in. They both seemed to pick up on the change of energy, sticking close to Christen as she walked to the staircase. She started up but turned back to give Tobin a hard look.

“You know, whatever your thoughts are about what I do… at least those men… the ones who came in to see me to dance, the ones who watch my videos, the ones who pay me for my company… at least they were honest about what they wanted from me.” Then she continued up the stairs without another word.

Tobin wanted to tear her hair out. She wanted to scream and punch something and destroy something until she didn’t feel like she was pulling apart at the seams.

This wasn’t how she had intended the night to go. This wasn’t… how had they gotten to this place? How had Tobin gotten to this place? She had spent all of these months telling everyone who would listen how amazing Christen was and how inspired she was by what she was working for. How had she let this night get so out of hand?

She sank down onto the couch, pressing her palms into her eyes, but the tears didn’t come. It was like everything inside of her was frozen, had been frozen from the moment Christen had told her to go. It felt like she had stumbled into another dimension where suddenly every worst-case scenario had come true.

She slowly dragged herself up the stairs, pausing outside of Christen’s door. She could hear the muffled sounds of sobbing on the other side, but when she tried the knob it was locked. She rapped gently with her knuckles. “Chris?”

“Just fucking go away! You’ve said all I need to hear,” came the tearful reply. She leaned her forehead against the smooth wood, her chest clenching as she listened to Christen cry.

Eventually she dragged herself away to her own room, shutting the door behind her with a thud. As she stared at the room, her clothes tossed on the floor, her laptop on top of Christen’s sunshine yellow comforter, the tears finally hit her.

How had this possibly happened?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, I know, I KNOW, come yell at me on tumblr @thetheatrelady`


	17. The Climax

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How it all ends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright babes... you know what day it is...
> 
> SEX WORKER WEDNESDAY!!!
> 
> Here is Chapter 17, I hope the wait was worth it

Tobin woke up the next day with a pounding headache, no doubt the result of the tears she'd shed into her pillow as she tossed and turned, fruitlessly trying to fall asleep. Her own words had echoed in her head, taunting her until she was nearly sick.

In the cold light of morning, things didn't look any better.

How had this happened?

She crept downstairs to find the dogs in the backyard and Christen's car not in the driveway. She was gone, probably had been for a few hours, and had taken with her any chance of them talking this out.

Did Tobin want to talk this out?

Was that even possible?

She slowly trudged back upstairs, slowly coming to terms with the fact that she needed to pack up her things and get out of Christen's home. That's what she wanted, she had been very clear about it, and Tobin needed to respect that.

Had Tobin been clear about what she wanted?

She squeezed her eyes shut, scrubbing her fists against her face. _No._ She'd let her emotions get the best of her, letting her words come out wrong until they had fucked up her entire life.

She gathered all of her clothes from the dresser, dumping them unceremoniously into her suitcase. As she stared down at them, she realized that she had never changed her load of laundry from the washer to the dryer the day before, meaning the clothes were surely smelly and she would have to take the time to rewash them, then dry them before they could be packed, thus delaying her leaving even longer.

But when she got downstairs she found the clothes not only dry, but neatly folded in one of Christen's laundry baskets. Her heart ached at the small, sweet gesture, no doubt done while she was on the phone with Jill yesterday, talking about deadlines. 

Would she ever get the chance to thank her?

She carried them upstairs and added them to the suitcase, then slumped on the edge of the bed, pulling out her phone.

**'Christen I don't want to leave without saying goodbye'**

She watched as the three dots appeared and danced around, then disappeared. Just as she had given up on getting a reply, it came through.

**'I think you said what you needed to last night. Just let me know once you've headed for the airport.'**

Tears blurred her vision, and she found herself wishing Christen had just ignored her.

She gathered up her equipment, carefully packing it into the correct bags then taking everything downstairs. Once she had, she took one last look around the living room, unable to believe that this was the last time she would ever get to see it. Then she pulled out her phone, and called an Uber to the airport.

She refused to let the tears fall as she silently loaded her things into the trunk. She was afraid that given the chance, the tears would wash away what little strength and dignity she had left, leaving her a pathetic mess of a person who might not be able to pull herself together.

_Snap out of it! _She angrily tried to tell herself. _You've had your heart broken before, you'll get over her._

But deep down she knew that this wasn't like with Shirley or any of her other break ups. Yes, there was the overwhelming cloud of shame and guilt for the words that had been exchanged last night, but more than anything she didn't want to leave. She'd never had to end something on anything less than her terms, and she hated it. She could already feel the terrifying feeling of regret itching along her skin.

"Which airline are you flying?" the driver asked.

"Uh... I don't know. I haven't booked the flight yet."

He glanced at her through the rear view mirror. "Last minute trip?"

She hummed noncommittally, turning to watch the streets of Portland quickly tick past, but he didn't pick up on her need for quiet.

"Someone die?"

"What?"

"Are you flying somewhere for a funeral? That's really the only reason to fly so last minute. Plus you look like you just lost someone."

Her heart gave a painful lurch in her chest. "No. I'm not going for a funeral."

"Than where are you going?"

"Home," she replied shortly.

The driver hummed. "You have boy trouble."

Tobin took a deep breath, then looked towards the driver. "What?"

"I said you have boy trouble. I have a daughter, I know that look. A boy has broken your heart."

She didn't bother to correct him, instead looking back out the window and closing her eyes, wishing this whole day was done already.

Once she finally arrived at the airport, she wheeled her suitcase to the front desk, standing in line for nearly thirty minutes before she was beckoned forward.

"Hi, I need a flight to New York."

The woman didn't look up from her computer screen. "What's your reservation number?" 

"I don't have one."

She flicked her eyes up to Tobin. "I'm sorry?"

"I don't have a reservation number because I haven't booked a flight yet. I need to do that."

"Did you have problems booking online?"

"No, I just... I'm booking now."

The woman stared at her for a moment, her face unimpressed. "Right. Flying where?"

"New York City."

"LaGuardia, JFK, or Newark?"

"Any of them is fine."

"That's not... alright." She tapped along on her computer. "I have a Delta flight to JFK that connects through Atlanta. Leaves at 10:49 tonight, you would arrive tomorrow morning at 10:30 am."

Tobin frowned. "There's nothing that leaves sooner?"

The woman raised an eyebrow. "When booking at the last minute, we can only do so much."

Tobin raised her hands in a half-hearted attempt at peace. "Look..." she glanced at the woman's name tag, "Lindsey, I'm not meaning to be a problem. I'll take the flight to JFK, that's fine."

The woman gave a curt nod, as if glad that Tobin had come around to her way of thinking. "Perfect. Boarding will begin at 10:20 out of gate D7. Your total today comes to $487, I can print your boarding pass after you pay."

"$487?!" Tobin sputtered. "My flight here was like $110!"

The woman flicked her blonde hair over her shoulder. "Well, that's probably because you booked your flight at least a few weeks in advance and you weren't flying during peak Spring Break pricing. If you don't want the flight, please step out of line so I can assist the next customer." Her eyes slid away from Tobin to the next person behind her.

"No, no, I'll..." She let out a slow breath, trying to push down the tears that seemed determined to make an appearance. "I just... I'm sorry, I would have booked earlier, but I didn't, didn't know that I would be going..." she cleared her throat. "It's fine. I'll put it on my credit card." She pulled out her wallet and handed her mastercard over. 

The ticketing agent's eyes softened slightly, and she lowered her voice. "Listen, I know it sucks. They just know that if you're having to fly last minute they can gouge the prices and customers will pay whatever they ask. It's ridiculous, but there's not anything I can really do about it."

"It's okay, it's not your fault." She watched as Lindsey swiped her card and handed her a slip to sign. Moments later she was presented with her boarding pass, along with a royal blue coupon.

"If you take this to the bar right next to your gate, they'll give you a free beer. No offense but... you look like you could use one."

Tobin managed to give her a small smile. "Thank you. Really, it means a lot."

She smiled back. "They don't call me The Great Horan for nothing. Anything else I can help you with today?"

"No, that's it."

"Okay. Have a safe flight."

"Thanks." She walked towards security, hearing Lindsey call up the next person in line. She went through the motions, removing her shoes and jacket, arranging her laptop and camera equipment in the specified way and letting herself be funneled through the security process. Before she knew it she was in the bar Lindsey had recommended, a beer in front of her. She pulled out her phone and stared at her text thread with Christen, typing out a message.

**'You can go home, I'm out of your way'**

She erased it. It felt too catty and dramatic.

**'I'm sorry that everything ended this way. I wish that we could have talked this morning.'**

Again, she hit backspace. There was no use saying what couldn't be. It would just make her feel worse.

**'I made it to the airport' **

She hit send before she could over analyze it, then closed out of her texts, instead opening her phone app and pressing her third speed dial.

"Tobin!" came the slightly too loud voice.

"Ash, hey."

"What's up dude? I haven't heard from you in a few days. I was starting to think that you literally died at the film shoot," she teased.

"What, uh, what are you doing tomorrow morning? Do you have work?"

"Not that I can remember. Why? Wanna Facetime? I'm pretty sure Ali will be with clients."

"Can um... can you pick me up from the airport?"

There was a short silence on the other end. "The airport? I thought you wouldn't be home for at least a few more weeks, is everything okay? Is someone sick?"

"No, everyone is, they're fine as far as I know. I'm... I'm just coming home."

"Like to visit? You're homesick?"

"No. Home to be home."

"Is Christen coming with you?"

She didn't reply for a moment, propping her head up on her hand. "No, she's not."

"Tobs..."

"We had a fight, okay? And she kicked me out."

"Wait, kicked you out? What the hell?"

Tobin scuffed her shoe into the leg of the table. "Not kicked out, she didn't like throw me out onto the street. She just... she asked me to go. To get out of her house. That she was done." Her voice cracked, and she wiped under her eyes with the back of her hand, trying to keep it together.

"Fuck, um... maybe you should call Ali. I mean, obviously I'll come pick you up at the airport tomorrow, but she's so much better at this kind of thing, I don't want to say the wrong thing and make it worse-"

"You don't have to say anything. There's nothing to say."

"Shit dude, I just... Are you sure this is it? I mean, people say dumb stuff when they're upset. Surely you guys can work out whatever happened."

Tobin shook her head. "I... no. I don't think so. It was the heat of the moment, I was upset, and I said some stuff that... that I didn't actually mean, y'know? But it all happened too fast I opened my stupid fucking mouth without thinking, and I don't think I can fix it. And maybe... Maybe it's for the best. Maybe I really didn't think this through, Ash. I mean she's a sex worker. There's no way around that. And it's not that I don't respect that, but maybe I'm not the kind of person who can date someone in that industry. I don't think I was really thinking about what it all entailed. But being on that set yesterday... watching her have sex with someone else... I can't do it! I can't watch that!"

Ashlyn sighed through the line. "I... I get that. I can't even imagine what that was like. But also... would you be watching it?"

"What?"

"Her porn. You had never watched any of her films before, right?"

"Right."

"Why would you start watching them just because you were together? And once you're finished writing the piece, you have no reason to be on set. I just... If the problem is seeing her have sex with someone, then don't. I mean, you know your parents have sex, it doesn't mean you have to see it happen."

Tobin wrinkled her nose, temporarily distracted from everything else. "Ash, that's sick!"

"That's just the cold, hard truth."

"It's still, it just... I don't know that I can do this. Even if she somehow took me back, I don't know that I'm cut out for this life."

"Do you trust her?"

Tobin rolled her eyes. "It's not a matter of trust-"

"Tobin, do you trust her?"

"Yes." Because she did. When it came down to it, Tobin trusted Christen.

"When you take away all of the physical aspects, does any part of you think she would be unfaithful to you if you were together?"

Something Christen had said weeks ago about her ex-girlfriend suddenly floated into Tobin's brain. '_My heart was always true to her. Unfortunately, that wasn’t enough.'_

"No," she breathed.

"Isn't... isn't that what truly matters?"

"It's not that simple," Tobin insisted.

"I'm not saying it's simple. Love never is. Look maybe I'm just talking out of my ass. Ali is way, way better at this kind of thing, we both know that, but I know you, Tobin. I know that you have a hard time finding people you can truly connect with. You're such a great person, but you hold everyone at an arm's length. Granted I've never seen you together, but the way you talk about her... it's new. It's different, Tobs. I don't know how to describe it, other than the way your voice changes when you talk about her, the look in your eye you get when we facetime, I recognize it from when Ali and I first started dating. It's the face I would see in the mirror."

Tobin cleared her throat. "She told me to leave. She doesn't want to see me."

"It sounds like you both said things you didn't mean."

She shook her head and sighed. "I better let you go. My flight leaves in a few hours and I should eat something. Can you pick me up at JFK tomorrow? My flight arrives at 10:30."

"Yeah I can do that. You know I love you, right Tobs?"

"I know. I love you, too."

She hung up and stared up at the electronic board. Despite what she told Ashlyn, she wasn't actually hungry. She wasn't sure she would ever be truly hungry again. Instead she pulled out her laptop and began to flick through the pictures she had amassed while in Portland. It hurt to look at them, but this was her job, her livelihood; she didn't have a choice. She started at the beginning, paging through and bookmarking the ones that looked most promising for the final editorial.

Suddenly she was looking at a picture of Christen standing in the doorway of her house, her tongue poking through her teeth as she giggled. She knew exactly when this had been taken, back on the very first time she visited Christen's house, back before she moved in, before they kissed, before everything had gotten so helplessly complicated. She pressed her lips tightly together as her eyes traced over Christen's face, her flawless skin, the fuzzy socks on her feet. She would give anything to be able to go back to this moment.

She hit the next arrow and her breath caught in her chest, making her lean towards the screen.

It was a picture of her, the one that christen had taken on her phone. She had forgotten that Christen had sent it to her, forgotten she had added it to this folder. But what was most shocking was that no she could see exactly what Ashlyn was talking about.

She looked happy.

This was before they had gotten involved, before she had even realized that she wanted to be, but in this single candid moment that Christen had captured, she looked almost blissful. Her eyes were soft in a way that she was unfamiliar with, and she knew it had everything to do with who she was looking at.

"I'm an idiot..." she mumbled under her breath, paging back and forth between the two photos. Then she scrambled to her feet, sliding her laptop back into her bag and dropping a few bills on the table before hurrying away.

Lindsey was in the middle of assisting another customer when Tobin slapped her boarding pass onto the counter.

"Don't send my suitcase to New York. Or do, I don't care, but I'm not getting on that plane."

"Wait, what? You can't- you just- wait!" she yelled after her, but Tobin was already running out of the airport, the slap of her sneakers echoing through the airport as she dashed towards the taxi line.

She was in a tizzy the whole ride to Christen's house, her mind screaming at her to stop and think this through before she made a fool of herself. But she couldn't listen. She had to take a chance for what she wanted, and if that made her a fool then so be it.

It wasn't until she was knocking on Christen's door that the enormity of what she was doing really hit her. _What if this was a mistake?_ But she pushed the thought away.

The door opened, and suddenly Christen was standing there in front of her, her eyes puffy and swollen, her nose red, her hair thrown up in what had to be the messiest bun in existence.

She was still the most beautiful woman Tobin had ever seen.

"Chris..." she breathed out.

"Did you forget something?" she asked.

"Honestly... yeah. I forgot who you are."

She furrowed her eyebrows. "What? Tobin..."

"Please just listen to me," she pleaded. Christen slowly stepped back, letting her into the living room.

"What?"

"I... I was wrong Christen. I was... I was upset and freaking out, and I was so, so wrong."

"Yes," she replied. "You were."

"I didn't... look, words aren't my strongest suit. And I know that as a journalist I should be better, but that's the great thing about journalism. I very rarely have to talk about myself, and when I talk about my subjects I can revise and reorder until I know I've gotten the words right. And I didn't do that last night. I was panicking and I said things I didn't mean, Christen, things that I could never actually think."

"Tobin-"

"Please... just let me say this. Please. And then whatever you have to say, I'll listen. Please?"

She sighed and nodded, gesturing for her to continue.

"You're amazing. You are smart and passionate and fierce, I wasn't wrong about that last night. But I was wrong to insist that you have to quit everything. I don't get to make that choice for you. No one does. I won't take back what I said about you going before Congress or any of that, but I need to put my money where my mouth is. If we're truly fighting for a world that doesn't stigmatize sex workers, then that includes accepting it as a valid profession, one that can be actively chosen. And I... I was fucked up to suggest that I should have any say in your choice. Because I don't."

Tobin took a deep breath. "I care about you. Deeply. I think probably more deeply than anyone else in my whole life. You make me happy, Christen. People assume that I'm always happy, but there's a difference between happy and chill. And you make me happy in a way that shakes me down to my toes. Being with you, being around you, it's like the feeling I used to get on the soccer pitch, the feeling I get right as I catch a massive wave. You toss me up into the air in a way that makes me afraid that I won't be able to find my feet when I fall." She took a step forward. "You do that. No one else. And I just- I would be a fucking idiot to ever let that go."

"Toby," Christen gasped. "That... I hear what you're saying, and I feel the same way about you, but I'm not going to change. Do you realize that? This is my life. It's not something I can or want to give up, even... even for someone as wonderful as you. At the end of the day, I'm a sex worker. I'm an escort, I'm a dancer, and I'm a porn star. There's no avoiding that."

"I know. I know, I promise, but also- why would I watch you? I mean, she was right, I know lots of people who are having sex, and I don't want to watch them."

"What?"

She gave her head a quick shake. "Nothing, I- Ashlyn and I were talking- never mind that. What I'm saying is I know who you are and what you do, and while it's not going to be easy by any means... I don't want to let you go."

"Tobin you can't talk yourself into this. You can't change yourself for me. I mean, do you really want to be with a porn star? Will you be comfortable with people knowing what I do?"

"I've spent my whole life not caring what people think of me and my life choices, this seems like a stupid time to start."

"Tobin it's not- you can't come back here, just because you've decided you miss me! I can't, I can't just be waiting around for the next time you get upset and decide this isn't for you! I can't-" a tear made it's way down her cheek. "I can't take it."

"Christen." She stepped forward, cupping her cheek in her hand. "I'm not under some delusion that this is somehow all going to magically solve itself. It's going to take time, and hard work, and maybe some therapy to get all of this straightened out. But I want to fight for this. I want to fight for you."

She slowly met Tobin's eyes. "Do you understand what that really means? What all that entails? Because I can't take this pain again, and I don't want you to hurt either."

She took Christen's hand with the one not cradling her face, interlocking their fingers and squeezing. "There will be pain. There always is. But together... I think we can come out on top of it. It won't be immediate, but I'm serious. You're worth it. This," she brought their intertwined hands up and pressed them against Christen's chest, "is worth it. And I'm not going anywhere, as long as you say it's okay to stay."

"Tobin," she whispered.

"Yeah?"

"Kiss me."

And so she did. She knew that it would be messy, that people would have all sorts of questions, would be downright cruel at some points. But if at the end of the day she had this woman at her side, hand in hand against the world...

Then maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what do we think? Leave me a comment, or come and yell at me on tumble @thetheatrelady
> 
> Also!!! A few people have expressed interest in seeing this story from CP's POV. I wouldn't do the whole thing, just some key moments, but is this something you guys would be interested in? I would probably post them as a separate story in a collection with this one. Lemme know!


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